


More Like You

by the101



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alcohol, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Universe, Drug Use, Drugs, Eventual Romance, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Hate Sex, Hate to Love, Humor, Love/Hate, Recreational Drug Use, Romance, Sexual Content, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Smoking, Twins, Universe Alteration
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-03
Updated: 2019-05-16
Packaged: 2019-06-20 23:47:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 22
Words: 73,375
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15544920
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the101/pseuds/the101
Summary: An AU in which the boys are suddenly struck and stuck with a new person in their lives whether it be for better or for worse.......Lennon, 19, carefree and wild.I make a lot of poor choices and push my luck 99% of the time.It usually works out alright, but recently it had sent me packing.“I don’t see what the big fuss is about. You two used to be so close.”“Exactly, used to be!”“Lennon, whatever happened, you need to get over it. He’s your twin for crying out loud!”......**This was previously posted on another site years ago. Minor edits have been made prior to posting. If there is an interest in this story I have many many many more chapters to post.**





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Recommended Listening: Pink Floyd - Goodbye Blue Sky

Some people in life are structured. They have routines and are responsible and straight laced, if you will. Those people like the fact that there is a place for everything and everything is in its place. If you ask me, I think those people have sticks shoved so far up their arses that they are incapable of walking straight. But, maybe that's just me.

 

I am the complete and utter opposite of said people. Honestly, I couldn’t be more far off from them. I’m the type of person that gets dirty looks and disapproving glances from said people, though I honestly couldn’t give a fuck. I’m the type of person that really fucking enjoys going out and getting pissed or high as a kite off of whatever is available. Half the time I don’t know where I am or who I’m with; to which I don’t mind, as long as I’m in an altered state of mind. My motto is ‘The greatest pleasure in life is doing what people say you cannot do.’ I believe that wholeheartedly, truly. I don’t care if it’s something as small as the current internet challenge or something as large as becoming an astronaut. I’m here to prove people wrong. God sent me to piss the world off.

So, here I am: Three in the morning, God knows where, with my best mate Rosie, and some random pack of people, tripping balls. And when I say tripping balls, I mean, I’m-four-tabs-of-acid-in-and-I-couldn’t-be-happier-slash-more-fucked-up. It isn’t my best trip, but I’m enjoying it nonetheless; laying in the grass, watching as the stars and planes flash across the sky, morphing and moving at great speed.

 

“Lennon,” Rosie mumbles, pulling me from my trance.

“Rosie?”  


“Tell me about the sky!”

I chuckle at her childlike wonder and answer, “The sky is deep and dark and eternally high. Many people think that’s where you go when you die.”

“Do you?”

I pause a moment before answering, “Well I think you return to obscure, or wherever you were before you were. I mean, I’d like to think that there’s something bigger than all of us after life, but you can never be sure. But there’s also the chance that things could start over, you could have a completely different life! I think that would be really nice.” I look over to my right where Rosie is laying, she just smiles and nods her head in response before letting her eyes flutter shut.

“You two fuckers are bringing down my high, cut it the fuck out!” some random fuck shouts at us from a few feet away.

I roll my eyes in response, “C’mon, Rose. We should get ya home.”

# +

I finally return home after getting Rosie into bed (which is no easy feat when she’s seeing things and still tripping her arse off) around five in the morning. While attempting to shut the front door as quietly as possible as to not wake anyone up my eyes quickly squeezed shut when the unmistakeable sound of slippers shuffling on hardwood floors sounded from behind me.

Shit.

Goddamn shit.

Fuck.

“Lennon Shea, where have you been?!”

I turned around to face an unhappy set of parents. “Uh, out,” I simply mumbled.

My father just grimaced and switched the overhead lights on. “It’s five in the morning! And your eyes! Did you even bother to look at them before you decided to stumble home?!” he emphatically hollered.

“No,” I replied curtly. And I didn’t. My parents know that I’m always up to no good, so I didn’t even think of trying to hide my dilated pupils.

My mum just shook her head in disappointment, softly sighing, “I don’t know where we went wrong with you.”

“What do you mean ‘with me’?” I questioned sassily.

“Well, your brothers aren’t like this at all. Just you,” she stated, then mumbled, “I wish you were more like them.”

 

I guess I should explain a bit... I’m kind of the black sheep of my family, not that I mind, or anything. I’ve always been eccentric, I guess just more so recently. As a kid I was just as weird as my brothers and our parents didn’t seem to mind- they must’ve thought it was some phase we were all going through. But my brothers straightened out a bit and I, as my mother likes to put it, spiraled downwards.

I know I’m the biggest let down in my parents’ lives. I never do or say anything right, I don’t wear the right clothes, listen to the right music, nor act properly. I certainly don’t have the right friends nor the right attitude. Basically, I’m one big fuck up, in their eyes at least. I think I’m fine. But I know I’ll never be good enough.

 

“I guess that’s just one of the many wonders of the world,” I replied facetiously.

“Of course,” my mum replied dryly, “That’s why your father and I have made a decision.”

My eyebrows shot up as I asked, “Decision?”

“Well, with you refusing to clean your act up we thought it would be best if you moved out.”  
I smirked to myself as my mind briskly clouded with thoughts of how perfect moving out could be. I could get my own place, maybe Rosie could move in too. I wouldn’t have their constant nagging and I could do whatever the fuck I wanted-

“Before you go off thinkin’ you’ll get your own place," my dad interjected, "You can’t.” 

“What? _Why_?!”

“First off,” he started, “You haven’t got any money. And no, we aren’t giving you any. You can get a job. Second of all, we called your brother. He said he’d be happy to take you in.”

“You’ve gotta be shittin’ me!” I cried in response.

“Lennon, language!” Is shouted before he continues in a calm voice, “We’ve already packed your things. You can go and check to make sure you’ve got everything you need, but we’ll be leaving in an hour.”

My heart dropped a little.

I mean, I get it, really, but I never thought my parents would actually kick me out.

# +

My parents really had packed everything I needed, minus a few extra items. Like my booze stash and my locked box of an assortment of drugs. But I had grabbed those and shoved them in the bottom of my duffle bag and made my way out to the car.

We'd been sitting in complete silence for the entire ride. My parents glanced at each other every once in a while and I had my face glued to the window, taking in the familiar sights for one last time. But soon things didn't look right.

“Why are we going this way?” I asked, lifting my head from the window.

“Because we’re headed to the train station,” my dad replied simply.

“Why? He lives like an hour away.”

My mum sighed, “Other brother, dear.”

Upon hearing that news my heart basically dropped through my body as I shrieked, “ _WHAT_?!”

She continued, “I don’t see what the big fuss is about. You two used to be so close.”

I harshly scoffed, “Exactly, used to be!”

“Lennon, whatever happened, you need to get over it. Niall’s your twin for crying out loud!”


	2. It's Not That Simple

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Recommended Listening: Augustana - Coffee and Cigarettes

I might have possibly had a mild panic attack as my mum droned on about the arrangements and how I wouldn’t being staying with Greg because he’s too busy and blah blah blah. Whatever the reason may be, I still have to stay with Niall.

 

Great.

 

Okay, so, _maybe_ I failed to mention one little detail of my life previously. I, Lennon Shea, am Niall Horan’s twin sister. _Yes_ , Niall Horan of One Direction. _No_ , it isn’t all that great. It’s obnoxious actually. And I may or may not have spoken to him in three years.

Oops?

I’m guessing there is a curiosity as to why I haven’t been in contact with him. It really isn’t that fascinating of a story, honestly. So to quickly explain I'll flash back to the X-Factor days.

I went to the audition with him and the rest of our family, as expected. He always had a wonderful voice and definitely deserves everything he’s gotten; he’s truly worked really hard for it. Anyway, he did brilliantly, hit a few bumps along the way, eventually became part of One Direction, and came in third place. I was proud of him. ( _Hell_ , I’m still proud of him.) But once things got a bit more fast paced he dropped me in a split second. It hurt, yeah- like my mum said, we were best friends. Nevertheless, I got over it... kind of. I’m one to hold a grudge, so I never _really_ forgave him. Plus, he’s my brother, I’m always mad at him for some reason.

There's also probably curiosity over how it’s possible that I haven’t seen or spoken to him in three years. It isn’t hard, really. I changed my number and he’s usually on tour. Plus, he moved to London when they made it big after the show. As for the holidays? That can be a bit more tricky. However, Niall will only have a few days off, so it’s not incredibly difficult to get out of the house for that long. Usually I’ll just go to Rosie’s or camp out somewhere.

Family gatherings? Gone.

Christmas? Probably at Rosie’s.

Summer? Let’s face it, I wouldn’t be home anyways.

It may seem like I’m being childish about all of this, which I may be, but it hurt. It hurt to know that he didn’t really care about me anymore. We went from being best friends to complete strangers in a matter of days.

 

Nowadays we only have five things in common:

1\. Our affinity for alcohol (a given)  
2\. Our affinity for food (another given)  
3\. The habit of cussing like a sailor (much to our mum’s displeasure)  
4\. We both dye our hair blonde (it started with me not liking how I looked with brown hair as a kid and Niall used up the rest of the bottle)  
5\. We’re both carefree motherfuckers (an inside joke from way back when)

 

The people who do know that Niall is my brother always question why I don’t take advantage of it, or why I don’t try to contact him. Truth is, I’ve never been one to seek out attention, and the media coverage that he gets is enough of an incentive for me to stay away.

Those people always comment about the rest of the band too. Things about their looks and their charm and all that jazz. Though, I have no interest in any of that.

I’ve never heard any of their songs, I don’t know what any of them look like apart from Niall, and, no, I don’t like boy bands. Sure, my music taste is eclectic, but boy bands do not fall in there, anywhere. I'm more of a classics type of person- The Stones or Clash or Ramones.

All of which are nearly opposite to One Direction.

# +

Instead of taking a flight to London from Mullingar, I had to ride the train and then take a boat over to London, where Niall would pick me up. All my mum’s idea, of course. She didn’t want her poor baby Niall to have to go to a crowded airport.

After a hell of journey I stood at the edge of the dock, slowly smoking a much needed cigarette as the water lapped against the wooden planks beneath me. It would've been serene had it not been for the weight of seeing Niall crushing my shoulders.

I finished off my smoke and stubbed it out, tossing it in a bin I passed on my way toward the car park.

I didn't know what I was looking for, but it sure as hell wasn't the large black SUV that sat at the back of the lot with a hooded figure leaning against the hood. My brows pressed together at the sight, the morning sun provided little to no help in identifying the person.

The figure pushed itself from the hood and ambled toward me, and as I moved closer I realized that it was in fact brother dearest.

Niall removed his sunglasses and hooked them on the collar of his shirt, offered me a stupid crooked smile and a "Hey," to which I nodded curtly. "I'm over here," he said, nodding to the monstrosity behind him before he turned to get back into his car.

I rolled my eyes and adjusted the strap of my duffle on my shoulder, huffing in annoyance when he started the car and sat looking at his phone instead of offering his help. This was followed by and incredibly awkward car ride to his place- conversation was attempted on his part but I wanted nothing to do with it.

After we rolled up into his parking structure and took another silent ride in the lift to the nineteenth floor where he unlocked a door to a swanky flat (which, by the way, is entirely too big for one person) he showed me to the room I would be staying in and said, "Its nice to see you again," and turned back down the hall.

 

I mean, _honestly_?

 

Although I figure that I can just ignore him the entire time I’m forced to be here. Easier than talking about feelings and all that shit, right?

 

So, in an attempt to stay away from Niall for as long as possible, I decided to shower and rid myself of my leftover high from earlier this morning. I made my way into the bathroom connecting to my room as I stripped from my dirty clothes and noticed there are no towels, no washes, nothing.

 _Perfect_.

I made my way into the hallway and looked in each room for any shower necessities. But, alas, nothing. Now I have to speak to that twat.

“Oi, fucker!” I shouted through his flat as I headed into the kitchen, where I presumed he would be.

 

Nothing.

No response.

Just silence.

That fuckwad.

 

I repeated myself as I turned towards the kitchen, this time louder, “Oi, fucker!”

So there I was, in nothing but my knickers, standing in front of my brother and four well fit lads. I smirked to myself as I saw the lot looking over my body, taking in my red lace bra with matching cheekster undergarments.

“ _Really_? After all this time that’s the first thing you say to me?” Niall questioned.

I ignored him and turned my attention to the no-name boys, “What are you staring at? Haven’t you seen a girl’s body before, or...?” No response, just gawking. “Oh, God! You haven’t! This isn’t a boy band at all! It’s just a purity club! Quick, shield your eyes!” I shouted in a serious tone.

The one with a mop of curls atop his head spoke up with a smirk, “Rest assured, love, we have. Niall, you didn’t tell us you had someone over to shag!”

_Ew. Did he really just say that?_

“Ew. God, no!” I gagged.

“But, if you aren’t shagging him why are you in just your knickers? Or here even?” The super vibrant looking one asked.

I looked to Niall, eyebrows raised indefinitely, “Ya really haven’t told ‘em?”

“Can ya blame me?” he challenged.

“Oi, feelings!” I cried, clutching my heart in mockery.

“Ah, cut the shit, Len.”

“I’m so confused! Someone please explain!” the muscular one shouted.

My eyes darted to Niall. I was not going to be the one to explain this. He quickly caught on and stammered out, “Er, uh, lads, this is, uh, Lennon, my... sister.”

 

Four sets of eyes bugged out, followed by an awkward silence as their mouths repeatedly opened and closed.

 

The tall, dark, and handsome one cleared his throat. “What? Since when have you had a sister, mate?”

“Since birth,” Niall offered simply.

Everyone’s eyes fell on me.

“ _What?_ ”

Mr. Muscles spoke again, “It’s nice to meet you, Lennon. How old are you?”

I chuckled at his formality, “Nineteen.”

A look of confusion returned to his face once again, “But Niall’s nineteen. How are you nineteen?”

I rolled my eyes, “Ever heard of twins?”

I swear at that moment the world stopped turning. And not in a good way, like when you have one of those amazing kisses and you can feel your heart flutter. It was in a way that was so awkward it had officially surpassed Michael Cera on the awkward scale.

“NIALL! YOU HAVE A TWIN SISTER!? A FIT, TWIN SISTER AND YOU NEVER ONCE TOLD US?!” the extra flamboyant one yelled.

“Uh, I guess so,” Niall mumbled, scratching the back of his head.

Everyone was silent again. Well, until I broke the silence. “Again, fucker, where are the towels?”

“Hallway cupboard.”

“Great. Well, nice tah meet ya, I guess. Curls, Fancy, Muscles, Mysterious,” I rattled off, nodding my head at each of them before turning on my heel and heading towards my room.

“We have names you know!” one of them shouted.

“I don’t plan on staying long, no need to learn your names!” I returned over my shoulder.

# +

After my much needed shower and I was dressed my stomach began growling. Which wouldn’t have been a problem if I hadn’t planned on posting up in my room for the rest of the day. So, begrudgingly, I made my way to the kitchen, met again by five boys that I would rather not be in the presence of.

“Lennon,” Niall spoke.

“Niall,” I mimicked.

He sighed, “We’ve got to go to the studio today.”“Good for you?”

“That means you’ve got to come with us, Len.”

I stopped dead in my tracks, “What? _Why_?”

“We both know why you’re here, Len. Mum told me not to leave you alone.”“I’m a big girl, Niall, I can take care of myself,” I assured him.

“Lennon, you haven’t got a choice.”

I threw my head back and groaned, “Whatever, let me just go grab something from my room. Get me a water, would ya?”

I didn’t even wait for a response, just sped up to my room and dug around for my locked box.

 _What?_ You can’t possibly expect me to get through whatever the fuck they’re doing at the ‘studio’ sober, can you? A pill or two won’t hurt.

I grabbed a few of what I recognized to be Ms. Molly herself and went back into the kitchen, snatching my water from Niall’s hand, murmured a ‘thanks’, and popped them into my mouth.

“What was that?” Niall asked in a knowing tone.

“Ibuprofen, calm yer tits, mate,” I returned, earning a few laughs off the rest of the boy band.

# +

This ‘studio’ is awful. Nothing to do. Nothing to look at. _Nothing_. I’m stuck in this tiny room with Simon Cowell, and to be honest, he gives me the heebie jeebies. No one introduced us, so I’ve kind of been sitting as far away from everything as possible, rolling my eyes every time I have to hear the lads do the same take of some stupid love song.

“When the fuck is this going to be over?” I asked myself.

Simon looked over, smirking, “Few hours, love.” I groaned, impatiently waiting for this to be over or for my high to kick in. Simon pressed some button on the soundboard, “From the top, boys.”

They nodded and began again. I groaned even louder, stomping over to Simon and throwing my hand down. “Don’t you think they’ve done this one enough?! I mean, honestly! Shot me out of the sky, I want to fucking die!” I mimicked their singing.

Niall’s voice filled the room, “Don’t like it then?”

My eyes widened as I looked to him, then down at my hand, which was pressing several buttons down. “If I’m being honest, no. What the fuck kind of crap song is this?”

“Alright, who does she belong to?” Simon asked in an irritated tone. The lads’ fingers all pointed to Niall. He sighed, “Whatever, doesn’t matter. Just talk a walk, would ya, love?”

I grimaced at Simon, “My pleasure.”

# +

I decided to lay out in the grass in front of the studio, my high had finally kicked in and I was smoking a much needed cigarette. I could feel my body getting lighter, my mind clearing of all unwanted thoughts, everything becoming peaceful. Er, that’s what _was_ happening until the building’s doors swung open and shouts filled the silence.

“LENNON!” an angry Irish voice erupted.

“Yes, brother dear?” I emphatically sighed.

“What the fuck d’ya think yer doin’?”

“Layin'?” I challenged sarcastically.

“And what the fuck is in yer hand?!”

“Cigarette,” I replied plainly, taking another drag.

“When did you start smoking?” he asked, his voice sounding a bit saddened at the fact, as he neared me.

“Er, I was fifteen? Yeah, fifteen sounds ‘bout right.”

“Len,” Niall whispered.

“What?” I asked, maybe a bit too harshly.

He opened his mouth like he was going to say something, but quickly closed it again, shaking his head. He paused before asking, “What’s up with yer eyes?”

I quickly looked away. I had never really done drugs like this when Niall was still around. Sure, I smoked weed, but so did he. This is different, though. I feel guilty about it around him.

Niall grabbed my shoulder and turned me to face him, “Lennon, tell me what you’re on.”

I looked to him, then to the four lads behind him, unreadable expressions on each of their faces. “Nothing,” I answered a little too quickly.

“Lennon! Just tell me! What if something happens? Something terrible?”

“Nothing is going to happen!” I shouted as I shook his grip off of me, “Even if something did it wouldn’t phase you.”

“What the devil are ya talkin’ ‘bout?”

“Oh, for the love of God! You’ve gotta be shittin’ me!” Niall just stared at me; his eyes were void of any emotion, a solemn look on his face. “You wouldn’t get it,” I whispered.

“Try me,” he whispered back.

“You left, Niall. You left me without a word! You didn’t care then and you sure as hell won’t care now!”

“It’s not that simple, Len.”


	3. Stay Away

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Recommended Listening: Manchester Orchestra - Pensacola

I never did find out why "It’s not that simple" (or whatever bullshit Niall was going to spout off) thanks to a certain sassy, burly man named Paul. He’s their babysitter or something like that, I think. Either way I have to give him mad props for putting up with Fucker, Curls, Fancy, Muscles, and Mysterious all the time, ‘cause they suck some major arse.

After Sir Paul stopped Fucker from hopping on the bullshit train and running his mouth until the end of time, I had to endure a painful, painful ride back to my temporary home. Why was it painful some may ask? For many reasons actually.

1\. Fucker wouldn’t stop asking me what I was on and giving me disappointed looks like he was our mum or dad and it made me feel... _guilty_. I don’t like feeling guilty.  
2\. Muscles kept worrying over nothing. Asking if I needed to go to the hospital and all that.  
3\. Mysterious just kept smirking at me, like he knew exactly what I was on, like he’s been in my shoes a million times before.  
4\. Fancy and Curls kept trying to fuck with me. They’d hold up their hands and ask stupid shit like, “How many fingers am I holding up?” “Can you see straight?” and blah blah _blah_.

Finally, I had had enough. “A’RIGHT, I’M ONLY GOING TO SAY THIS ONCE SO ALL FIVE OF YA BETTER LISTEN, AND LISTEN GOOD.” They silenced immediately. “One; Niall, quit lookin' at me like that, and if you must know, I’m only on molly. The ‘love drug’ if you will. Two; Muscles, I don’t need to go to the hospital. I’m rollin', not dyin'. Three; Mysterious, quit with the smirk. I know you know, so just, stop, a'right? Four; Fancy and Curls, I REPEAT, I AM ROLLIN', NOT DYIN' OR STUPID.”

After my short little rant Niall looked me dead in the eyes and stated, “You’d have tah be stupid to be rollin’.”

My heart sunk a little. Being a disappointment to my parents was one thing, most kids are, but being a disappointment to Niall? This was new. It hurt. It fucking hurt real bad. Back before he was famous and whatnot he could never be disappointed in me. No matter what I did, we were on the same level. Now he’s all high and mighty and can’t be bothered with his dumb sister.

“Hey, Fancy, I think you’ve got some competition for the title of ‘biggest mouth’,” Mysterious stated with a smirk.

# +

Once we were back home and everyone was piled inside Niall spoke up, “Makin’ some tea, anybody want some?”

Everyone responded with a chorus of affirmations and Niall looked at me, “Len?”

“Yeah, thanks. I’m just gonna run upstairs for a minute,” I whispered.

“Lennon, you don’t need to take something every time you drink.”

I rolled my eyes, “For fucks sake, Niall! I’m just gonna change into some sweats. Have a little faith in me!” I made my way down the hallway, but slowed to a stop when I heard whispering.

“ _God_ , I don’t know why I agreed to this.”

“She’s fit, mate. Wish you brought her around sooner.”

“Just... stay away from her, a’right? You don’t need her in your life.”

Betchya you don’t know who said that... Actually, it’s pretty obvious. And I can’t believe I’m letting him get to me like this! I’m supposed to be mad at him! From now on I’m Lennon Niall-Horan’s-twin-sister-that-fuckin'-hates-the-livin'-shit-out of-him-and-won’t-put-up-with-his-or-anyone’s-shit Horan. All systems go.

I didn’t even bother changing when I finally found myself in my room, I just sat on the edge of my bed and threw myself back, groaning in the process. That fucker really pisses me off. Words can’t even explain how much I loathe every fiber of his being right now. All I want to smooth this fit over is a fifth o’ whiskey and Rosie. At least I could tell her about all this shit.

 

Cutting off my thoughts was a knock at the door.

“Go away, Niall!”

“Er, it’s me, Harry,” a slow drawl offered through the door.

“ _Who_?”

The voice sighed, “Curls...”

“Oh, uh, come in,” I said, standing up and grabbing some sweats out of my bag. He just stood there, not saying anything. I raised my eyebrow, “Did you need somethin' or what? ‘Cause I’m pretty sure Niall just told you guys to stay away from me.”

His eyes widened a hint, “You heard that?”

“Every word,” I replied, feigning a happy tone.

“Oh...”

“Well, if you don’t need anythin' I’d like to change now,” I said, alluding for him to leave.

“That’s alright, doesn’t bother me. After all, I’ve already seen it,” he returned with a smirk.

I sighed with a shake of my head, “Whatever.”

# +

We were all sitting in the living room, sipping our tea in silence. It was nice... ish. I like sitting in silence, ya know, to take a break from everything. But I was with the Fatuous Five as I like to call them, FF for short, and just their presence is enough to drive me mad.

“So, Lennon, where do you go to Uni?” Muscles asked, and surprisingly everyone looked interested in my answer. But... my answer sucks.

“Don’t you guys have places of your own? I mean, why are you here?” I shot back, tone sarky and rude.

Niall glared at me, “Seriously, manners, Lennon. Answer the damn question.”

_God_! He’s doing this on purpose. He knows I have a shit answer. He knows I don’t like talking about my personal life, _especially_ with strangers. And he knows one question will turn into a whole slew of them, which will piss me off.

“Well, Muscles-” “Liam,” Niall interjected.

“Right, Liam,” I shook my head as if to get rid of the nickname, “I don’t go to Uni.”

“Why not?”

“‘Cause I haven’t got anything to do there.”

“Well, what are you interested in or good at?” he asked as if he was helping. But I’ve been through this a million and one times.

“I have no special talent. I am only passionately curious,” I responded shrugging my shoulders. He nodded his head, obviously aware I didn’t care for the topic.

“Have you got a boyfriend?” Curls asked, “Again, I’m Harry.”

“I know, and no, I don’t.”

Niall smirked at me, “Of course not.”

I couldn’t help myself from what I let out of my mouth next, it kind of just... _slipped_. “I’ve never been one for relationships. I’d rather jus’ fuck and duck, ya know?”

A smirk formed on everyone’s faces, aside from Niall, his was more of a scowl. But what did he expect when he made that smartass comment? ‘ _No, I’m saving myself till marriage, and I’ll only marry my one, true love_.’ As if.

The tension in the room was at such an uncomfortably high level you could literally cut it with an ax. Thankfully Fancy spoke up, “How come you don’t know our names? It makes me feel unloved,” putting an exaggerated frown on his face.

“Because I’ve never met you before.”“But we’re famous! Have you never asked Niall or your mum or dad about us?”

“Nope!” I returned, popping the ‘p’.

“Well, you should Google us then! I’m Louis the greatest human on the planet, by the way!” he chirped, a huge cheesy grin plastered to his face.

I chuckled, “I’ll think about it.” I looked over to Mysterious, the only one who hadn’t spoken yet, “What about you? Name and question.”

He had an amused expression on his face, “Zayn and uhh, let’s see here... Oh! Who’s older?”

Before I could even open my mouth Niall shouted, “Me!”

I scoffed, “Yeah, by barely two minutes.”

“Still older!” he returned in a singsong voice, sticking his middle finger up at me.

# +

Eventually four fifths of the Fatuous Five left, leaving myself and Niall alone in the living room, alone, in an awkward silence, alone, staring at the walls, alone, and, oh yeah, _alone_. Exactly what I wanted desperately to avoid. But, alas, I always fail miserably at simple tasks.

Niall cleared his throat awkwardly, “Soooo... Lennon.”

I turned my head in his direction, “Yeah?”

“Er, I dunno. I was hopin’ you’d have something to talk about,” he admitted sheepishly.

“Welp, I don’t,” I returned dryly.

 

There was another awkward silence.

 

“Do ya really not know anythin’ ‘bout the band, Len?” Niall asked, sorrow in his eyes.

“I really don’t. Why? Does that bother you?” I asked in return, raising my eyebrows.

He looked down at his lap, fiddled with his fingers, and barely whispered, “Yeah, it does.”

I smirked to myself. _Good_ , I’m glad he feels like shit because I don’t care about his dumb little band. It’s not like he cares about anything in my life, granted it isn’t much, but he doesn’t.

He looked over to me for a response. I mean, I could tell him everything I’m thinking right now, but he doesn’t deserve the satisfaction that comes with knowing he’s made me unhappy. So, instead I let out a loud, heavy, irritated sigh, “D’ya want me to Google you lot then?”

Niall’s head snapped up, the familiar happy glimmer returning to his eyes, and his ridiculously crooked smile on his face, “Ye- Er, that’d be fine if ya wanted to.”

I chuckled, “Right then, go get your computer.”

He furrowed his eyebrows together, “Why can’t you use yours?”

“Niall, I’m poor. I don’t have one,” I stated as if it were obvious. He nodded his head and ran to some room, returning as quickly as he left. “So, how should I do this? One by one or the whole lot?”

“Whichever. But I do know that you wanna see what your big brother does the most,” he teased, pinching my cheeks and avoiding my swatting hands.

 

So I got down to it. Starting with One Direction as a whole, which kind of split off into each of the lads. Apparently there’s this thing called a ‘fandom’ and it’s just a bunch of overzealous preteen girls practically throwing themselves at the lads. There was some video about a little girl wanting Harry’s ‘gravy’. Honestly? Have some self-respect, please.

I guess the basics I learned were that the lads were practically worshipped and could virtually do no wrong in the eyes of those who enjoyed their music. The five of them each played their little role and offered something that wasn't provided by the rest of the boys; Niall for instance branded himself as a carefree mofo.

 

“Carefree mofo, Ni?” I asked, not tearing my gaze from the computer screen.

“Er, yeah. When we first started out interviewers wanted to know something about each of us, and I just said that. It was the only thing I could think of on the spot, plus, it reminded me of you.”

The corners of my mouth twitched up at his comment, I had no idea he actually missed me. I kept scrolling through page after page of useless information on the boys and was eventually led to youtube. I watched a few videos of the lads’ concerts, to which I would compliment Niall on, and a few from creepy stalker fans filming them at the airport. Then I came up to one video that made me stop. It kind of hurt a little, actually. I watched it several times just to make sure I got it right, and I had.

“Niall?” I called to the kitchen where he was making us some more tea.

“Yeah, Len?”

“Shower of cunts?” I asked incredulously.

Okay, so I know most of the people on the planet have probably seen this video. And I know people are probably wondering why it’s such a big deal to me, ya know, since it’s such a small thing. Well, when we were kids, maybe twelve or so, we were even more inseparable than ever. We went everywhere together, did everything together, talked about everything and anything, no one could come between us. That summer one of the neighborhood kids, Keely, I believe her name was, came up to me and Niall. She was always a bratty kid, ya know, the one you couldn’t stand but they were always around, always getting their way, and always bullying everyone around? Yeah, Keely was that girl. Anyway, she came up to us and started making fun of me for my ugly brown hair and my ratty old jumper that had a kitten on it, saying things like, “You’re such an ugly cow!” “Your hair looks like muddy straw!” “Cats are for babies!”, which, in retrospect, were awfully horrible insults, but they got to me at the time. Niall could tell how upset I was getting so he told Keely off, something I will never be able to repay him for. After Keely left, Niall began to console me, saying all the right things that big brothers should say, and finished off by saying, “She’s jus’ a showah o’ cunts anyhow.” From that day on ‘shower of cunts’ was our little inside joke. We vowed to never let anyone hear us say it and that we would never share it with anyone. It was a special ‘twin joke’.

So much for that.

Niall rounded into the living room holding two mugs of steaming tea, “Look, Len, I didn’t mean to. I was pissed off. Those girls were the absolute worst, an’ I was so aggravated, I couldn’t think of anything else to say! As soon as it slipped out I regretted it. I know that it was our ‘twin joke’ and it still is. Just, please don’t be mad, a’right?”

I just nodded my head. I can’t be mad at him for letting something slip, right? “It’s just that the whole world knows now, Ni. I’m jus’ a little bummed out, ya know?” I lamented. I felt silly for being upset about something so dumb, but I couldn't help it.

“Yeah, I get it,” he said sitting down next to me, wrapping his arm around my shoulders.

With all the emotion I was wrapped up in I guess I had a bit of word vomit, quickly mumbling, “Niall, why did you tell the lads that you didn’t know why you agreed for me to be here? And why did you tell them to stay away from me? That they didn’t need me in their lives?”

His eyes bugged out, his cheeks flushed, and he turned away from me as his arm recoiled, “Y-ya heard that?” I only nodded my head, not daring to speak. “Look, Len, it’s no-”“Not that simple, I know,” I sighed as I set his laptop on the coffee table in front of me so I could get up and head for my room.

“Lennon! Come on, Len! Don’t be like that!” he shouted down the hall, clambering to his feet and pacing towards me.

“LIKE WHAT?! ANGRY?! ANGRY THAT MY PARENTS DON’T WANT ME? ANGRY THAT MY OWN BROTHER, MY TWIN BROTHER, DOESN’T WANT ME?” I shouted in response, stopping in my tracks and whipping around to face Niall.“Lennon...” he whispered, inching towards me with his hand out.

“ _No_ ,” I snapped venomously, “Just stay away from me.”


	4. Fatuous Five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Recommended Listening: MGMT - Electric Feel

Have you ever been so angry that you couldn’t think straight? Couldn’t function? Couldn’t do anything except for sit and fume over whatever pissed you off? Because I for _damn sure_ fucking have. Especially right now. The previous night’s events had me irritated beyond belief and I couldn’t get any sleep. You don’t mess with me and my sleep, that’s a well known fact. _But_ , Niall and his stupid mouth did just that. I don’t even want to look at him.

Let’s face it, being in the same flat as him is enough torture as it is, I don’t need to see his face. And, by the sound of it, the rest of the Fatuous Five have shown up, _yet again_.

And I’m bloody hungry.

So I’m left to make a decision: Stay up in this God forsaken room all day until everyone is gone or asleep so I can go eat, or, climb out the window, down the fire escape, and find some fast-food joint... I’m gonna go with option two on this one. I couldn’t possibly not eat, I’m a Horan for fucks sake!

After the split second it took me to make that quite obvious decision I quickly dressed, locked the bedroom door, and shimmied my way out the window (and made sure to leave it open a crack so I could get back in). I took the decrepit fire escape stairs two at a time down innumerable flights before reaching the ladder that hovered above the sidewalk. With a swift kick to the ladder it clanged to the ground and I rapidly climbed down before jumping; my boots slapping onto the pavement with a hard thud before I brushed my hair out of my face and looked up and down the main road for any signs of food.

# +

Have I mentioned that I hate how busy London is? _No_? Well I do. Too many people for my liking. ‘Cause, ya know, with people comes talking and socializing and stuff with strangers, and as you’ve figured out by now in this ramble, I just don’t like that. I really don’t get how the lads of FF do it. Ya know, deal with masses of people constantly. I’d rather off myself than have to deal with crowds of people everywhere I went.

After finding a McDonald’s and ordering half the menu I practically ran back home to enjoy my meal in peace and quiet... Also, I didn’t want them to get cold... And maybe I was a little worried about Niall coming up to the room and figuring out I wasn’t there... If that happened he’d call our mum in a flash and she’d make me go live with our grandmum or something equally as awful.

I clambered back up the fire escape with my bag of cholesterol tightly clutched and finally let out a deep sigh of relief when I reached the window to the room I was staying in. One slight problem, though. It was closed. And locked. Just my luck, really.

So this means one of two things. One; the window fell down and locked itself shut, or, two; Niall somehow got in and locked it to piss me off and catch me in the act. I feel like number two is a more probable answer. Not that going to get food was bad, believe me, Niall would agree, but _apparently_ I wasn’t supposed to go anywhere alone to have a moment of peace to myself.

To be honest, I’ve only been here for about thirty-six hours and I’m already stressed out. I don’t get stressed, but this is what Fucker does to me.

Anyway, I pulled myself together, climbed _all the fucking way back down the goddamn fire escape_ , and went up to the main entrance of the building like a normal human being. I nodded my head in acknowledgement to the people I passed in the lobby and deftly slid into the lift doors that were closing. A deep sigh left my mouth once more before I shook my head and reached into my bag for a fistful of chips that were only exposed to the outside world for a moment before they were shoved into my gullet.

My brief minute of tranquility ended when the lift doors dinged open and I forced myself into the hall, slowly trekking down to Niall's flat. My hand precariously rested on the doorknob as I took one deep breath and mentally prepared myself for some lecture. I exhaled and pushed the door open. Immediately I was met with a fuming Niall.

 

“ _WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN_?”

I didn’t respond, only held up the bag of sweet, sweet Micky D’s.

“Why didn’t you tell me? You know you aren’t allowed to leave by yourself.”

I just stared at him, expressionless, waiting for this to be over. Niall didn’t motion to say anything else, so I began to walk towards the back door that led to the balcony.

“Where are ya goin’?” he shouted towards me.

I held up a cigarette in my hand behind my head so he could see.

“And why aren’t ya speakin’?” he asked bewildered.

I turned around after I stepped outside, looked straight at my arsehole of a brother, and flipped him the bird before shutting the door a little to hard.

“So I see you’ve gone back to being mad,” a voice came from behind me, causing me to jump.

I slowly turned in the direction of the voice; Mysterious, sitting on the edge of the railing, smoking a cigarette.

“S’pose you could say that,” I returned while looking through my purse for a lighter.

“Here.”

I looked up to see Zayn standing in front of me, lighter in hand, ready to light my cigarette for me. “Thanks,” I replied sheepishly.

“No trouble at all,” he smiled while lighting it for me.

 

This is the first time I’ve actually gotten a good look at Zayn, and _damn_ is he fit. Obviously I noticed that all the lads were fit during our first encounter, but this was different. Zayn was fit and being nice to me; that’s something rare in a guy.

My eyelids closed and I rolled my eyes to myself because _shit_ I shouldn’t be thinking like this. They’re my brother’s mates! Not to mention that Niall had told them to stay away from me, and he’s been giving me these secret sibling looks as if to say do not get involved with any of them. Which, now that I think about it, could be a good way to get back at the bastard. Ya know, fuck around with his friends? Maybe, just maybe...

 

I looked back over at Zayn, who was exhaling a long drag, “Can I ask ya somethin’?”

“Fire away,” he responded.

“How do the fans not know about me? I mean, I Googled you lot last night-”

“You Googled us?” he asked, amusement playing on his rugged features.

“Well, yeah. Niall was being a baby about me not knowing anything, so I did,” I explained. Zayn nodded his head for me to keep going. “Anyway, how come they don’t know? They put the F.B.I. to shame with the things they know and they know about Greg and all of your guys’ siblings, so why not me?”

“Beats me, really. But _we_ didn’t even know about you. I’m honestly surprised Niall kept it a secret for so long, he can’t keep his trap shut for the life of him. So I guess if we didn’t know about you the fans wouldn’t know.”

“Disappointing answer, mate.”He chuckled, “I guess you’re gonna have to speak to Niall about it then.”

I rolled my eyes, “That’s the last thing I want to do.”

# +

When I returned back inside I took in my surroundings; FF nowhere to be seen and an empty kitchen that was bound to have a cabinet full of liquor. So I took the opportunity to dig through each of them until I found what I was looking for; a bottle of mine and Niall’s favorite whiskey. Bless the Irish fucker for loving alcohol as much as he does.

I cracked the bottle open and took a few big swigs, then walked aimlessly towards the living room. I wondered if maybe FF decided to leave me here alone. It’s not like they're physically capable of being this quiet. I clambered over towards some high-tech looking sound system and plugged in an iPod that was sitting on top of it; scrolling through the countless bands and artists listed.

“Ah, here we are!” I exclaimed to myself, “Sweet baby VanWyngarden!”

Soon enough the melodic beats of MGMT were rattling the flat, thumping through my system as I took a few more swigs of whiskey. I decided that this moment definitely called for some celebratory Mary Jane, so I made my way up to my room while singing along.

“Standing there with nothing on, She gonna teach me how to swim-”

I stopped dead in my tracks. Lo and behold, there was the Fatuous Five sitting on my bed, jamming some sort of device into my locked box.

“ _Oi_! Have you ever heard of personal privacy?!” All of their heads snapped up towards me. “WELL HAVE YA?!” I shouted when they all just stared at me dumbfounded.

“Hey, love. You’ve got a wonderful voice, ha-”

“Not now, Curls,” I deadpanned, holding my hand up, but not tearing my gaze from Niall.

“Lennon, look, it’s no-”

“Not that simple,” I finished for him, raising my eyebrows.

“I was gonna say not what it looks like,” Niall sneered.

“Oh? Then what is it? ‘Cause it looks like you lot are going through my things and trying to unlock something. Some things are locked for a reason, ya know.”

“We were just curious,” Fancy interjected, a feigned innocent smile gracing his lips.

“Uhg, whatever. I don’t feel like getting into this right now. But just to let you know, if you were really that curious all you had to do was ask,” I let out, fingers massaging my temples in an attempt to alleviate my frustration.

“Well, will you show us then?” Mysterious asked, a smirk upon his features.

Oh, he knew. He knew _exactly_ what I had in that box. Granted, it wasn’t that hard to figure out and he probably just wanted some. “Give it here,” I sighed, holding my hand out. Niall handed it over and I dug through the bag still latched onto my body for the key. “Now, before I unlock this you have to promise me something.”

“And that something is...?” Muscles questioned.

“That we go to the club tonight,” I smiled, “I haven’t been to one in ages, and you’ll owe me after this box is open.”“Fine, fine, whatever you want, since you’ve already started drinking,” Niall agreed as he nodded with a sour look on his face to the bottle by my feet.

A disdainful huff left me before I swiftly unlocked the box and dropped it on the bed, “Happy?”

Each of their eyes widened, even Mysterious’, who let out, “Where did you get all of that?!”

“I have my ways,” I answered smugly. Although, this definitely wasn’t one of my proudest moments. Ya know, showing my array of drugs to the world’s most popular boy band that my brother just happened to be in.

“Are you going to share then?” Fancy asked me with puppy-dog eyes and a pout, as well as the rest of the lads.

I smirked, “Well, what did ya want?”

“Er, that blue pill,” he pointed aimlessly.

“Have you ever done anythin’ before?”

“There’s a first for everything, isn’t there?” he returned sassily.

“I s’pose there is, but we’re going to the club. That wouldn’t turn out well for ya. How ‘bout some ganja?” I replied, eyeing the lot.

Mysterious seemed to be all for it, Fancy looked a bit disappointed, Curls only smirked, Muscles looked a bit worried, and Niall... well, Niall had this familiar glimmer in his eyes.

“How long’s it been then, Ni?” I asked.

“What?”

“How long has it been since you partook in a little bit o’ Mary Jane?”

“Last time was with you,” he smiled.

Curls interrupted our little bonding moment, “This is definitely gonna be a laugh then!”

I smiled brightly, suddenly in a much better mood, “Right then. Bowl, bong, blunt, or joint?”

“We should probably stick to a joint for these lads, don’t you think?” Mysterious asked.

I nodded playfully in agreement and got down to business.

# +

If you asked me last week if I thought I was ever going to get high with a boy band I would have said no. Obviously things don’t always work out how you plan. In fact, I planned on hating these boys with a passion, but now I think I’m growing fond of them? Weird, right? What is even weirder is that they’re funny; I don’t think I’ve laughed this hard in years.

“So do you two have twin telepathy?” Curls asked.

"Twin telepathy is a common topic we're asked about. It is believed that identical twins are more likely to have this sensation, however, fraternal twins like us also experience occurrences that would be classified as twin telephathy," Niall and I answered simultaneously.

I looked over to Niall and gave him a knowing smirk. Niall and I had that phrase memorized down pat. We always fucked around with people when we were kids with it. The thing is, twins don’t really have telepathy where you can read each other’s minds and all that. It’s more of a deep rooted connection where we can sense what each other are feeling and whatnot.

But these idiots are fucked up and honestly looked absolutely dumbfounded that we could even manage to speak let alone say the exact same thing.

Dumb fucks.

 

The lads’ mouthes were agape as Fancy stammered, “B-b-but how?! How did you do that?!”

“Like Curls said, Fancy, twin telepathy."

# +

We all agreed, after a lot of convincing, that they would show up to the club before me and leave my name at the door since I didn’t want to be seen with them, or be bothered with the crowds and stuff. None of them could believe that I hated crowds more than Niall, they thought I was just trying to escape their evil clutches. Well, they were sort of right. I just wanted a little space to myself, maybe find a fit lad to dance with, drink my weight in whiskey, and maybe get a quick shag in. Uhg, not to mention that stupid Curls, with his stupid perfect smile and his stupid sexy hair shake thing, kept making cheeky comments about my dress. Ya know, commenting on the length; rather short, the spikes; rather kinky, and that I looked ‘well fit’; which I had to admit, was kinda right. I actually felt good about how I looked tonight.

But forget about Curls, I’m in a swanky club with fit lads everywhere, in the V.I.P. section, copious amounts of booze, and I still had a residual high. These blessed factors helped block out the fact that I was smashed between Curls and Fancy on a couch listening to their fucking bantering. Thank the booze lords that I had a tall glass of whiskey at the ready for when things got even more obnoxious.

“LENNON!”

“What, Fancy?” I glared at him.

“One, I thought Niall told you to call us by our real names. Two, were you listening to my question?”

I scoffed, “One, I’ve never listened to anything Niall’s said in my life, why would I start now? Two, no. I’m trying to block you fucks out.”

He gasped, “I take offense!”

“Course ya do. Now what was your question?”

“Wanna dance?” he asked, wiggling his eyebrows up and down.

“Eh, I was thinking about finding a fit lad to dance with.”

“Well look no further! I’m fit and a lad! Now let’s gooooo!” he shouted in my ear while grabbing my wrist to drag me to the dance floor.

 

He had done it. Fancy had actually gotten me to dance. Granted the booze in my system and the infectious beat of the bass that was deafening and shaking the rafters along with my body helped a bit.

So here I was, in some club, smashed, pressed against Fancy. God, is he fit. Though, I’d never admit it to anyone. Seriously.

For the moment I was facing Fancy, my hips swayed to the beat while my arms moved above my head freely. I looked up momentarily to be met with Fancy’s bright blue eyes that almost pulled me into a trance. He must’ve noticed me staring, causing him to smirk, grab me by the waist, and turn me around. His grip on my waist tightened, pulling me as close as possible to his body.

“Feisty one are ya, Fan-” “Louis, please call me Louis,” he let out, allowing his hot breath to tickle my ear.

“Sorry, _Louis_ , of course,” I smirked.

I dug my hips harder into him, allowing a groan to escape from him. I guess you could say that we were, even though I hate this term with everything in me, grinding. I was grinding with my brother’s best mate, Louis Tom- Toml- Tomlisoup? Something like that. And I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t enjoying it.

What? He’s a good dancer. 

I could feel his hands snaking around from the back of my hips, to the front of them, and down my thighs. My mind could hardly focus on anything but his touch. Except for that little voice in the way way back corner of my mind that was covered in cobwebs and shit. And it was saying stuff like _Am I really doing this? Would this be the point where I went through with my shit plan to fuck around with my brother’s mates? Why am I feeling so conflicted all of a sudden? I’ve never been concerned about other’s feelings before. Especially when it came to boys I didn’t know. And especially when I was drunk._

 

I looked up as I kept dancing with Louis to see Harry at the bar watching us intently. It almost looked as if he was cross. But maybe that was the lighting and the alcohol playing tricks on me. I shut my eyes briefly and when I opened them Harry was gone. Ah, just kidding. There he is. Walking towards us. Still looking a bit cross.

“Mate, Liam’s been looking for you,” Harry shouted to Louis over the music.

We stopped dancing and Louis looked at me, “D’ya mind?”

“No, not at all,” I shook my head.

“See you later then,” he winked.

 

He _actually_ winked. Who the fuck even knows how to wink? ‘Cause I sure as hell don’t. Last time I tried to wink I ended up looking like I was having a stroke. Trust me, not attractive... And he managed to do it in a seductive way. How the fuck? I just don’t get it.

 

“What was that?” Harry interrupted my thoughts.

“What are you talking about?” I questioned.

“Nothing, never mind.”

“A’right then?” I returned and began to walk off, that is, until I felt a hand tug on my wrist. That seems to be happening way too often recently.

“What do you need, Curls?”

“For all that is good and holy, call me Harry, please.”

“Fine, you boys and your names,” I rolled my eyes.

“Come on, let’s dance.” I stared at him blankly, and I'm sure my face looked very confused. “Hey, please? You danced with Lou,” he reasoned, and then proceeded to do his little hair shake thing. Maybe the curls do get the girls...

“Fine, but don’t try anything. A’right?”

“No promises,” he replied with a cheeky smile.


	5. You Don't Know Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Recommended Listening: Naughty By Nature - O.P.P.

Ever had one of those nights where you just went a bit too far? Drank a bit too much? Or taken more than you should have?

Well, that’s where I’m at right now; I drank maybe a _teeny tiny_ bit too much. My memory of what happened at the club is fuzzy and there are chunks of events missing.

Thank the Lord I don’t get hangovers, otherwise this would be a fucking awful one.

If you are one of the people who hasn’t participated in drinking or drugs, I applaud you.

 

 _Honestly_.

 

I think I regret doing them more than I let on; they’ve really brought me down, and in many ways. I didn’t go to Uni, I really only have one friend, they’re probably part of the reason Niall left me without a word, they’re _definitely_ the reason my parents don’t want me around, and, last but not least, they’re the reason I’m lying on my brother’s couch with Harry Styles’ arms holding me in place next to him.

Now, I know most people would kill for this, but as you already now, I’m not like most people. In fact, I’m the complete opposite. I’m not one for socializing, flirting, or relationships. I don’t like gossiping with my ‘bffs’, or boy bands, and I most definitely do not like Mr. Harry Cheeky ‘Curls’ Styles.

Don’t ask me why, because I don’t know myself. There’s just something about him that rubs me the wrong way.

Maybe it’s the fact that he’s practically perfect in every way, or that he loves cats, or that he has the sweetest little dimples when he smiles, or maybe it’s even that damn hair shake thing. Any way you cut it, there’s just _something_ about him that bugs me.

Right, Lennon? He bugs the shit out of you? _Right_?

 

I tried to swiftly sneak my way off the couch, but each time I moved his damn grip tightened. I think I struggled in his arms for a good five to ten minutes before I finally had enough.

“LET GO, YOU FUCK!” I shout whispered with a brisk smack to his head.

He grunted, “Uhg, someone’s a bit cranky in the morning aren’t they?”

My breath hitched in my throat upon hearing the sound of his deep, hoarse morning voice. “Only when I’m being held against my will,” I scoffed.

“Oh, does that happen often?” he asked with a smirk, eyes barely open but still incredibly mischievous.

“Maybe, maybe not. Now kindly let the fuck go,” I retorted as I realized I was still in his grip.

“How aren’t you more hungover, love?”

I laughed in his face, “I don’t get hungover. I’m Irish. They put whiskey in our baby bottles over there.”

“Are you serious?” his asked, eyes widening.

“God, you’re so daft,” I mumbled. In response he only looked at me with a scowl on his face. “Would ya let go now?!”

“As you wish.”

As soon as he lightened his death grip I sprang up from the couch and into the kitchen. I looked down and realized I was still in my dress, which is good. That means I hadn’t done anything too stupid.

 _Hopefully_.

 

“Are you making tea?” a voice asked from behind me.

I turned around, only to be faced with a collectively sloppy looking FF with hope on each of their faces. “For fucks sake, do you lads ever go home?!”

“No, not really. The excitement is always here,” Zayn replied.

“Well, I’m just making tea. Nothing exciting. So you lot can scoot,” I waved my hands dismissively towards the door.

Harry chuckled, “You’re here, that’s exciting enough. Not much goin’ on ‘round ours.”

“Exciting enough? Gee, thanks, Curls,” I replied dryly.

“Aw, come on, love, you know what I mean! And _Curls_? I thought you were going to call us by our names!”

I rolled my eyes and frustratedly pushed my hair off of my face, snapping, “I will, if you’re on my good side. If you’re pissing me off, you don’t deserve your name. Now out of my kitchen! I’m hungry and you’re in my way!”

The lot of them stood stoically with no response to give me. However, after several minutes of me trying to convince them to leave the kitchen they somehow convinced _me_ to make breakfast.

How? 

I’ll never know.

I don’t even know when I turned into such a softy. I mean, I’ve only been here for a few days, and in that time my mood has been changing. It must be because of Niall; before he left I was nice... _ish_. Then he left and I got bitchier. And now he’s back in my life and I’m going soft?

Not okay.

Not okay in the slightest.

# +

“Come and get it!” I yelled out through the flat when I had finished cooking breakfast. I had gone from originally just planning on a cuppa and some toast for myself to a full spread of eggs, toast, fruit, and tea for the six of us ( _God damn them_ ). Within seconds of my holler everyone was sitting down at the kitchen table, eagerly watching me carry over plates but not of course not offering to help.

“Hurry up with that food, Len!” Niall whined.

I only gave him a glare, that he knew full and well meant to shut up, and began humming while I set out the food.

“What’s that your humming?” Louis asked.

“A lullaby,” I answered politely as I set a full plate down in front of him.

“How does it go?”

“You really want to know?” I asked. Louis nodded his head furiously while I let out a heavy sigh and set down the last two plates in front of Zayn and Harry before taking a seat.

“ _Harm me with harmony_  
Dave drop a load on 'em  
OPP, how can I explain it  
I'll take you frame by frame it  
To have y'all jumpin' shall we singin' it  
O is for Other, P is for People scratchin' temple  
The last P...well...that's not that simple  
It's sorta like another way to call a cat a kitten  
It's five little letters that are missin' here  
You get on occassion at the other party  
As a game 'n it seems I gotta start to explainin'.”

“Love, I don’t think that’s a lullaby,” Curls smirked while four boys sniggered beside him.

“Sure it is. Our mum used to sing it to us as babies,” I answered simply, picking up my fork and scooping up some eggs.

“Yeah, I’m sure she did...” Curls replied sarcastically.

“Fine, maybe she didn’t. But some guy did rap it to me the night before I was brought to this god forsaken hell hole.”

“I still don’t think that counts as a lullaby.”

“Close enough, right?” I countered with a lift of my brows.

There wasn't a response, just silence lingering around everyone that definitely wasn’t appreciated. Thankfully, Liam spoke up, “ _So_... How was everyone’s night? Sleep well?”

Okay, maybe not so thankfully. I really couldn’t tell you what had happened the night before. All I know is that I drank a lot, danced with Louis for a bit, and then...

 _Shit_.

I danced with Curls... and we took a shit ton more shots... and then I don’t remember much.

But I was still in my dress this morning! That means I didn’t do anything with him, right? Right. Of course I didn’t! I’m too smart for that, even when I’m fucked off my arse.

 

_Nothing to worry about, Lennon._

_You’re smart when you’re fucked up._

_You’re on top of your game when you’re fucked up._

 

Again, thank the Lord that everyone was more interested in their food than small talk. I honestly don’t think I could handle that right now. What with Niall being here and still having alcohol flowing through my system.

And I’ll have you know that those are two key reasons why you shouldn’t talk about your drunken nights- nearby relatives and the lingering drunkenness.

“Would’ve been better if _someone_ ,” Curls emphasized while darting his eyes towards me, “Hadn’t been taking up the whole couch. Really put a damper on my night.”

I couldn’t help but roll my eyes at his stupid comment. I snarkily replied, “First of all, I’m fairly certain I didn’t put myself there last night. Second of all, you take up way more room than me, you’re a fucking gangly giant! Third of all, you loved it. Don’t pretend like you didn’t.”

“She’s right, mate. You could never pull someone like her,” Liam stated with a smirk.

 

Fucking _thank you_ , Liam. Thank you so fucking much.

 

Curls cackled in response, “Please! I’ve pulled girls much better than her!”

“You. Fucking. Wish,” I deadpanned.

“Fiery, I like you,” Curls smirked from across the table.

“You don’t know me.”

“I want to, though,” he let out in a breathy whisper.

# +

I hate a lot of things in life. I hate when people are rude, or bad drivers, or ignorant. I hate when the ash on the tip of my cigarette is pointy, I hate when people tell me what to do, I hate when people comment on my habits. I hate bugs, I hate being away from Rosie, I hate not having free will. I hate living with Niall, I hate the fact that I was sent here, I hate not knowing when I can leave. But one thing I hate more than all of these things is when people make things complicated.

If you’re going to make my life complicated, you can get out of it. Kind of like Niall did, but in a different way. If you’re not blood and you make things complicated, I want nothing to do with you.

Ever.

For instance, four fifths of FF could kindly get out of my life. It’s only been a few days, but they’ve already got me off my rocker. Plus, I’m here to patch things up with one fifth of FF and ‘ _be more like him_ ’. Those tasks can’t be done with those crass idiots running ‘round here.

I couldn’t have been more grateful than I was the moment Niall told the lads to go because ‘ _we had things to discuss_ ’. I’m not really sure when I turned into Niall’s business partner, but I really don’t care if it means those fucks have to leave.

My guess is that we don’t have ‘things to discuss’, but that he understood those faces I was making to him in regards to Curls. I mean, if he could just shut up for five seconds about pulling girls, or cats, or whatever the fuck it is he talks about, I could tolerate him. But, _no_ , he’s always runnin’ his mouth.

“Lennon, could ya at least try to make it seem like ya weren’t goin’ to kill ‘em all?” Niall asked exasperatedly after he shut his front door behind the lads.

“As soon as I don’t want to kill ‘em, sure,” I returned with a shrug from my seat on the world’s comfiest couch.

“I don’t see why you’ve got such a problem with the lads, you hardly know ‘em!” Niall exclaimed.

“I’ve got my reasons,” I muttered, barely over a whisper as I played with my fingers.

“Come on, Len. You know you can tell me anything,” he cooed as he propped himself up against my shoulder, dragging my attention from my hands to him.

At this moment I could let everything out to Niall. All my feelings about the lads and how they drive me nuts and make me laugh at the same time. I could tell him all these trivial things that don’t really matter. Or, I could tell him exactly what I’m thinking; my personal thoughts about the lads that I’ve never spoken to anyone. But I think I’ll stay away from the latter, for many reasons.

“It’s nothing, Ni.”

“Lennon, what’s wrong?” Niall asked while placing a consoling hand on my shoulder.

“Nothing,” I repeated, even though my head was screaming ‘practically everything’.

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Trust me, it’s nothing. I’m just tired.”

Niall gave me a knowing look. He knows I’m lying through my teeth, that I’m not okay, that I need to get a fuck ton of things off my chest. He sighed, “What can I do? What’s gonna make ya feel better?”

I smiled at how sweet he was being, “Er, maybe a cup o’ tea with a bit ah whiskey in it?” He nodded his head and went for the kitchen. “I could use Rosie, too,” I whispered to myself.

Niall and I hadn’t had a moment like this since we were fifteen. The things that happened can be put to the side; they aren’t important. I’ll have those things that happened while Niall was gone that I’ll never tell him about, and he’ll keep his reason for leaving and staying away from me a secret. We don’t need to lay everything out on the table right now, things are just getting better. Yeah, our relationship is kind of off and on and not really steady at all, but we try. I know I’m going to try a lot harder now to make things work between us.

He deserves it.

I deserve it.

I need my big brother.


	6. Drunken Conversations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Recommended Listening: Of Monsters and Men - Little Talks

Niall

It’s funny how things work out sometimes, I guess nothing really ever goes as planned. I mean, I auditioned on the X-Factor to be a solo artist and now I’m in One Direction, which I absolutely love. I was best friends with Lennon my whole life and then things got... _complicated_. And now she’s living with me (obviously not her first choice) and I don’t think she’s happy. At all.

I understand why she’s here, but so far I haven’t done anything to help put her on the straight and narrow. I don’t think I even know how to go about doing that, it’s not like I haven’t partook in the activities she so loves. Granted, it’s never been to such an extreme.

I just don’t understand why our parents thought _I_ should be the one to get her act cleaned up.

 

Ever since the morning after the club things with her have been off; after we had our tea with whiskey she went up to her room and stayed there all day. She’s hardly come out of there, only for food, really. She’s usually a pretty social person, but since she’s been here she hasn’t been like her usual self. I thought that she’d really get on with the lads and I worried that I’d have to keep her away from them so she wouldn’t, erm, _you know_. But that hasn’t been a problem, which has actually got me worried like hell over her. Maybe she seems off because she’s away from everything she knows; her lifestyle, home, familiar comfort, her friends...

I don’t think she knows that I heard her when she said she missed Rosie, but I did, and that hit me hard. Rosie’s been Lennon’s best friend since we were kids. I’ve never had a problem with Rosie, she’s just not my favorite. I kind of think she’s part of the reason Lennon’s in so deep. Regardless, she makes Lennon happy, and I’ll do anything to make Lennon happy.

She’s my baby sister, she deserves to be happy more than anyone on this planet.

 

The lads are over today to discuss things about the album and our upcoming tour. I decided it was best to let Lennon know that they’re here since they’ve been gone for the past three days that she locked herself in her room, ya know, so she has the option of seeing them or not.

“Lennon,” I called softly through her door.

“What Niall?” she questioned quietly.

“Er, the lads are here. Thought I’d let you know.”Her door quickly swung open as I began to step away. “Why?” she asked solemnly.

“We’ve got to talk about the album and tour.”

“You’re going on tour?” she asked with an unreadable expression.

“Uh, yeah. Next month actually,” I answered cautiously.

“Oh,” she responded simply and shut her door in my face.

# +

“Where’s Lennon at?” Harry asked.

“Her room, mate.”

“Is she alright?” Liam inquired with a worried look.

“Honestly, I don’t know," I said with a shrug, "She’s been in there for days, won’t come out for anythin’.” A familiar and devious smirk appeared on Louis’ face. “I don’t like that look, Lou. Jus’ leave it be, please,” I begged.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Niall,” Louis returned with the same smirk, slowly standing from his seat on the couch.

“Lou, I’m serio- LOU! I SAID LEAVE IT BE!” I yelled after him as he ran up the stairs.

Zayn snickered from behind me, offering a less than helpful, “You should know by now that he never listens to anything anyone says."

# +

Louis

Now I know I’ve only known Lennon for a few days, but she grows on you really quickly. She’s funny and kind and well fit and it worries me that she’s been up in her room for days. It doesn’t seem like something she’d normally do.

“ _Lennon_!” I shrieked as I whipped her door open.

Apparently she wasn’t as amused as I hoped she would be as she rolled her eyes and muttered, “What?” before looking back at the book she was reading.

“There’s an emergency downstairs!” I yelled.

Her eyes snapped to me and widened, “What happened?”

“Well, Harry and Niall had a bit of a disagreement and now they’re going at it!” I dramatically informed.

 _What_?

If I was going to get her out of this room I had to play at her weaknesses, which I presume are her brother and Harry for _certain_ reasons.

Lennon stood up immediately with a sour face, “I swear to god if that curly headed freak lays a finger on Niall, who definitely could kick Curls’ ass, I’ll kill ‘im.” 

And with that she left swiftly.

Thank you, thank you, please hold your applause. I’ll just take my award for getting that stubborn girl out of her room and be on my way.

# +

Lennon

I swear I made it down the steps and into the kitchen in record time. I was determined to kill that motherfucker if he even looked at Niall the wrong way. Niall may be my big brother, but I’d kill anyone who hurt him.

“WHA’ THE FUCK IS GOIN’ ON DOWN HERE?!” I bellowed as I reached the kitchen, swinging around the corner.

The thing is, nothing was happening, just four lads sitting ‘round the table, and here I am screaming, looking like a complete fool.

“Len? Are you alright?” Niall asked quickly, clambering from his seat to come place his hands on either side of my face.

My face screwed up and I swatted his hands away. “Yeah, fine. Just have to go kill a pest,” I sneered as I spun around on my heel.

 

Luckily it was quite easy to find Fancy; his only attempt at hiding was standing behind an empty coatrack.

Brain dead that one is, I’m telling you.

 

“For fucks sake, Fancy, I can see you,” I let out in a sigh. He sheepishly came out from his ‘hiding spot’ as I questioned him, “What the fuck were ya thinkin’?”

“Wasn’t really. Just trying to get you outta your room,” he answered with a shrug and crooked smile.

“Whatever. I was perfectly content up there,” I told him with a roll of my eyes and a shake of my head before I went back into the kitchen with one thing in mind.

 

A drink.

A really, really, _really_ strong drink.

 

Funny thing is, I was sent here to get rid of my ‘filthy habits’, but I think they’re just getting worse being around FF. They’re driving me so mad that I have to resort to being in an intoxicated state to tolerate them.

 

“Len, what are you doing?” Niall asked me while I rooted through his cupboards.

“Looking for something.”

“And what is that something?”

“I’ll know it when I see it,” I returned casually.

“Mate, isn’t that your liquor cabinet?” Curls asked just to spite me.

“Shit. Lennon, get out of there,” Niall spoke as he neared me and grabbed my shoulder.

“Nah, I’m good.”

“Lennon, it’s _two o’clock_. You don’t need to be drinkin’.”

“Niall, it’s _two o’clock_. I need to be drinkin’, I’m already behind,” I responded to him while I was still fishing around in the cabinet.

“What? How are you already behind?” Mysterious asked incredulously.

I deeply sighed and turned to look at the group. “I usually drink from the moment I wake up to the moment I fall asleep. I’ve been up for two hours. I’m behind,” I spoke slowly so everyone could comprehend what I was saying.

Curls scoffed, “Are you serious?”

“Yep,” I stated, popping the ‘p’. He smirked at me, but I couldn’t tell you why. So I countered with a lift of my left eyebrow and, “Can ya keep up?”

“What are you drinking?”

I grabbed the bottle that was the farthest back in the cabinet and read the label, “Tequila hundred proof.”

“Let’s not waste anymore time then, yeah?”

# +

Curls and I are about halfway through the fifth of tequila. It should also be understood that no one else is drinking with us.

Believe me, I am as surprised as you are.

Their excuses were along the lines of them ‘ _supposed to be working_ ’ or ‘ _it’s too early_ ’ and ‘ _you two are stupid_ ’ or my personal favorite ‘ _I’d rather watch you two get drunk and fight_ ’.

At first I was kind of mad at the lads for not drinking, but the more alcohol I had in me and the more Curls talked about ridiculous things, the less angry I got.

 

Currently Curls and I are on the living room couch while everyone else is in the kitchen talking business or whateverthefuck it is they’re doing.

“-and thus Larry Stylinson was born!” Curls boomed as he made jazz hands.

“So your fans think you two are fuckin’ then? Just because of that one thing?” I asked wide eyed.

“Yup,” he answered, popping the ‘p’.

I couldn’t hold back my laughter any longer as I rolled around off the couch and onto the ground, clutching my stomach, “Fuck, your fans are mental!”

“We prefer the term dedicated,” he winked from his spot above me.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever you say,” I smirked while waving my hand dismissively, relishing in the feeling of the carpet on my skin. I went to take another swig from the bottle of liquid wonders, but it was quickly ripped from my grasp, “CURLS! GIVE IT BACK!”

He took a big swig, “Nah, not until you say my name.”

I raised my eyebrows, “ _Really_?”

“Really.”

“Fine,” I sighed, “ _Harry_ , give it back.”

“On one condition,” he stated as he held the bottle back from my reach.

“And that is...?”

“You won’t call me Curls ever again.”I scoffed, “How about I’ll only call you Curls when you really, really piss me off, yeah?”

He paused a moment to think it over, “Deal.”

“Deal. Now give it over will ya?” I grinned. He smiled in return before handing over the bottle and settling down onto the carpet next to me.

 

I actually fucking grinned. At Harry Styles, nonetheless. I don’t grin and I certainly don’t like Harry Styles. Why the fuck am I making deals with him? Especially deals that will make him happier than me in the end.

It’s official, I’m going fucking mental.

 

“Would you mind if I asked you a question?” Harry let out once our antics had died down.

I gave him a confused glance, “Shoot.”

“How come you haven’t come out of your room in days?”  
“Well-”

“And how come you only came out when you thought Niall and I were fighting?”

“You see-”

“And how come you don’t like us?”  
“Actu-”

“Wh-”  
“HARRY, DO YOU WANT ME TO ANSWER YOUR QUESTIONS OR NOT?” I yelled while slurring a bit. 

I yelled and slurred.

I slurrelled.

Whatever.

 

“Oh, right, right. Yeah, go on then,” Harry spoke as he tried to regain composure.

“Right then. I guess I didn’t come out because I needed time to myself. To think, ya know?” He nodded his head in response. “Sometimes I prefer being by myself, especially when things get hectic... Uh, what was the next question?”

“Why’d you come out?” he slurred lazily, head turning slightly to look at me as we laid next to each other.

“I came out when I thought you two were fighting because I was going to rip your head off if you even thought about looking at Niall the wrong way,” I answered while shrugging.

“You really care about him, don’t you?”

“Well of course, he’s my twin. If anyone ever laid a finger on him I’d kill ‘em.”

“The last question was why you don’t like us. I guess me, specifically...”“Right,” I sighed, knowing I’d have to tell some sort of version of the truth. “It’s not that I don’t like FF, it-”

“FF?” Harry asked amusedly. 

“Fatuous Five. Don’t ask,” I deadpanned.

He chuckled, “Continue.”

“It’s not that I don’t like you guys, it’s just... It’s just that... You know what, it’s complicated. Anyway, you lads are fine, I’m just missing my friends from back home.”

Harry nodded empathetically. Well I guess he tried to look empathetic. But the liquor was really starting to show. “Are you lonely?”

I laughed lightly, “Loneliness is the human condition. Cultivate it. The way it tunnels into you allows your soul room to grow. Never expect to outgrow loneliness. Never hope to find people who will understand you, someone to fill that space.

“An intelligent, sensitive person is the exception, the very great exception. If you expect to find people who will understand you, you will grow murderous with disappointment. The best you’ll ever do is to understand yourself, know what it is that you want, and not let the cattle stand in your way.”

 

We stayed silent for a moment that seemed to last a lifetime.

“That’s beautiful, what’s it from?”

“One of my favorite books,” I smiled as I turned my head towards Harry.

We went back to our silence. It was nice; laying on the floor, drunk, not giving a fuck about anything. I was actually having a somewhat meaningful conversation with someone for the first time in weeks. It was familiar. It was comfortable.

 

“I don’t hate you,” Harry blurted out as he sat up to face me.

“What are ya on about?” I asked, looking up at him as his brows creased.

“I know you think I hate you and that I’m always trying to make you mad, but I’m not. I swear.”

“Sure thing, Har,” I answered, “But I’ve got one question for you.”

“Go on.”

“The other day at breakfast, why did you say you wanted to know me?” I spoke quietly.

A small smile played on his lips, his eyes closed briefly before he looked down to me again. “Because I do. I do want to know you,” he answered easily.

“But why?” I asked again, slightly sitting up to rest on my forearms.

He shrugged his shoulders, “I don’t know, really. You intrigue me. You drive me crazy and I hardly know you. But at the same time, you make me laugh and feel like someone I’ve known my whole life. It’s weird, I know. But I just want to know you. Am I allowed to get to know you?”

I closed my eyes momentarily, taking deep, even breaths, “Yeah, I s’ppose you are. But don’t expect much, a’right?”

Harry chuckled, “If you say so.”

# +

“I’m surprised you two didn’t kill each other out there!” Liam joked as we made our way back into the kitchen.

“Nah, we put that shit to rest,” Harry smiled and rustled his hair.

“Wait. You didn’t do wh-”

“OH FOR GOD’S SAKE, NIALL! _NO_!” I shouted.

“Good. I was just checking,” he said.

“So what did I miss?” Harry slurred as he sat beside the other half of Larry.

Louis slung his arm around Harry’s shoulders, “Just talking about some promos for the album and the tour.” Louis' face scrunched up before he gave Harry a disdainful look. "Jesus, you smell like the floor of a distillery."

Harry casually flipped Louis the bird before pushing his face away with his hand. “When do we leave?”

“Sixteen days, mate,” Zayn sighed.

 

My heart dropped a little. I mean, if they’re leaving where does that leave me? My parents don’t want me, Greg is busy, I’m not allowed to be alone, and I’m poor. Am I being sent to rehab? A delinquent facility?

I abruptly pushed my chair back from the table and headed for the door.

“Where are you goin’, Len?” Niall asked.

“Just gotta make a call. Don’t worry.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thoughts so far? I'd love to hear from you guys!


	7. It Needs To Be Done

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Recommended Listening: Robbie Williams - Get A Little High

Unexpected news can be one of the most dispiriting things. Since the news is often negative, the feelings that are experienced afterwards are not my favorite.

Let’s be frank here, they fucking suck some major arsehole.

Like this one time Niall and I came home from school and our mum was sitting at the kitchen table- there were no after school snacks and she didn’t get up to greet us, which was odd because that was our daily routine. Anyway, she sat us down at the table and had to tell us that our pet tabby cat, Charles, had died. That news fucking broke mine and Niall’s hearts; that cat was our everything and there were no indications prior to that that would have clued us in to prepare for it, which makes it all the more difficult.

Now I’ve just learned that the brother I’ve recently started speaking to for the first time in over three years is leaving in sixteen days with his mates on tour. I know it’s his job and that he told me this morning that they were going on tour, I just didn’t think it would be this quickly.

Actually, I don’t even mind that he’s leaving. I mean, I can still keep in contact with him, it doesn’t have to be like last time. I’m just kind of concerned about what’ll happen with me. Ya know, my living situation and whatnot. I really don’t wanna bother Niall with any of this either since I’ve been such a burden already, which leaves me with one person to speak to.

 

I quickly left the kitchen and FF behind and made my way to the bathroom down the hall, my fingers racing across the keys of my shit mobile. It felt like it rang a thousand times before my call was answered.

“Hello?”

“Hey,” I let out with a sigh.

“ _Lennon Shea_! Where the fuck are you?”

“Uhg, I got shipped off to my brother’s last week. But let’s not fuckin’ talk ‘bout the pile of shit that is my life. What are ya up to?”

“Same ole shit, ya know. I fuckin’ thought you were dead though! A whole week with no contact? You know better than that, Len. Anyway, I fucking miss you and this town is even more shit without you here!”

I brushed my hair behind my ear and laughed, “I fuckin’ miss you too, Rosie! That’s why I’m callin’, actually. I’ve got a shit ton of things on my mind and no one to fucking tell it to!”

“Well, you’re only an hour or so away, right? I’ll be over to Greg’s in no time!” Rosie exclaimed.

And this is where I have to tell my best friend that I’m no longer in Ireland, but London. Fucking London! Of all places!

“Ya see, Rose, the thing is that, well, I gue-”

“Would ya fuckin’ spit it out already?” Rosie scolded.

“Right, right, of course. I’m in London,” I let out as quickly as possible. The line was dead silent for a moment, but just a moment.

“ _WHAT THE FUCK D’YA MEAN YER IN LONDON_?!”

I cleared my throat and sheepishly answered, “I told ya, I was shipped off to my brother’s.”

The line went silent once more.

“Wait... What is goin’ on here? Am I bein’ Punk’d? _IS ASHTON KUTCHER IN MY CLOSET_?” Rosie screamed as I heard her running about her room.

“Rose,” I spoke up in an attempt to get her attention, my free hand frustratedly rubbing my forehead.

“ _HE’S NOT IN MY CLOSET, LEN! IS HE UNDER MY BED_?!”

“ROSIE!”

Then there was silence.

I cleared my throat again, “I’m sorry but you’re not being Punk’d and Ashton Kutcher is not hiding in your room.” Sighing heavily, I continued, “I really am in London, unfortunately.”

“But if you’re in London and you’re with your brother,” Rosie spoke slowly while she put the pieces together, “that means you’re with, dare I say it, _Niall_?”

“Bingo,” I replied sarcastically.

She let out a heavy sigh, “Alright. Spill.”

# +

After my long and grueling conversation about everything and anything FF related with Rosie a few days ago I’ve felt a bit better; it kind of got things off my chest. Things that I could never in a million years tell anyone beside Rosie. They were things about each of the lads that I would never tell them, and it was nice to let it out.

Things really haven’t changed in the past couple days, though. FF has still been painstakingly annoying and omnipresent at Niall’s flat since I absolutely refuse to leave with them and, ya know, the fact that I’m not allowed to go anywhere by myself since I’m a 'mess', or whatever.

I don’t really think that I’m that deep in this shit, though. I could walk around London without getting into trouble... Most likely. As for leaving with FF? That’s never going to happen, even if my life depended on it. I don’t want to risk them being caught up in fans or paparazzi while I’m around because I loathe crowds.

And then there is the fact that I don’t want to be in the public eye, and I’m fairly certain Niall doesn’t want people to know I’m related to him. I mean, he kept me a secret for years (from his own friends, no less), I don’t think he’d suddenly change his mind just because I’d been around for a couple weeks. I also think he doesn’t want people to know especially because of the reason I’m living with him in the first place.

 

Currently I’m sitting in a tiny room in the ‘studio’, the only place Niall could force me to go to, with Simon Cowell (or Uncle Creepy as I like to call him) and FF while they discuss whatever the fuck it is bands discuss. To be honest, I couldn’t even pay attention to what they were talking about if I wanted to because I’m off in my own little drug induced world.

I’m sorry, but I will _never_ in my life come to this place sober, it’s God awful. Also, Simon Cowell still gives me the heebie jeebies, so a little intoxication of some sort usually helps. I actually graciously offered to keep Paul company beforehand, but Niall spouted off some shit about Simon wanting to speak to me and the lads about something or another... I kind of tuned him out.

Oopsies?

All I know is that we’ve been sitting in this tight, cramped, stuffy room for nearly an hour and no one has even acknowledged me. So as far as I’m concerned I could be hanging out with Paul, the only person who won’t give me shit for anything.

Such a nice chap, he deserves an award, really.

 

“Lennon!” an irritated Irish accent hollered at me.

“What?” I sneered, my face scrunching in response as my eyes refocused on Niall.

“Did ya hear anythin’ we’ve jus’ said to ya, or were ya just off in your own little world?” Niall asked in a condescending tone.

Oh, if he only knew.

“Not a word,” I replied honestly, deciding that counting the ceiling tiles was a better use of my braincells than listening to them yammer on. Like I said, I’m in my drug induced world, and it’s glorious and secluded; no time for FF or Uncle Creepy.

Uncle Creepy, or UC for short, let out a loud sigh, “We were trying to figure out what to do with you.”

“Whaddya mean?” I snapped at UC.

“Well, Niall just filled me in on your little... _situation_. But as far as I can tell the reason that you’re with Niall in the first place is also the reason you didn’t know what we were talking about. Am I right?” UC stated smugly.

“Clearly. It doesn’t take a genius to figure that out. I’m here because I’m a mess and can’t clean my act up, so it’s safe to say that I’m always goin’ to be a bit out of it,” I returned with a scoff. Who did this dude honestly think he was? The holier than thou attitude he gave off got old fast. And I mean _real fast_.

UC narrowed his eyes at me and gave a shake of his head before refocusing on Niall. “Right. So, Niall, letting the fans know about her is going to be a bit tricky since you’ve kept this a huge secret.”

My eyes widened at this news and completely lost track of the ceiling tiles, then shot between my idiot of a brother and UC. “Wait a second here, I think I should get a say in this!” I interrupted.

“And that is?” UC asked in an uninterested tone.

“That it’s not fucking happening,” I deadpanned.

Everyone’s eyes shot towards me. Maybe people aren’t supposed to talk to UC like that?

Oh fucking well.

“Niall, care to explain her,” UC spoke through gritted teeth.

“Well, uhhh,” he began, “I didn’t know that’s what you wanted, Simon. Actually, I thought you would want the exact opposite. Ya see, Lennon isn’t a fan of crowds, or the fans, or the band, or me, or the lads, or, I’m guessing, you.”

“You guessed right, Ni,” I added.

“Right,” Niall continued, “Plus, like ya said, it’s going to be messy telling the fans and the media about this since it’s been four years and they already know about Greg. But I’m pretty sure Lennon doesn’t want it to happen and I never mentioned her for a reason.”

“And that reason _is_...?” UC inquired, which caught my and the rest off FF’s attention.

“It’s not that simple,” Niall answered with a shrug.

“Okay then,” UC complied, which really upset me. I mean, he’s Simon Fucking Cowell. Isn’t he known for being an arsehole and getting what he wants? WHY THE FUCK WOULDN’T HE WANT TO KNOW WHY IT’S NOT THAT SIMPLE? ‘CAUSE I SURE AS HELL DO!

“So that means the media isn’t going to find out about Lennon?” Harry asked.

“No, not at all. I want you, Niall, to let this out.”

“But-” Niall and I shouted at the same time before being cut off.

“There’s no getting around this, it needs to be done. Especially if she’s going to be around you guys for this long. She’s bound to be seen and then it will turn into the whole ‘ _who’s dating who_ ’ fiasco. So I suggest you do it as soon as possible. Maybe go out for dinner, make sure the paps see you of course, and when the pictures are leaked do a twitcam. Simple enough,” UC rambled.

“Ugh, I can’t fucking believe this! Way to bring down my high, old man.”

# +

“So this is what we’re gonna do,” Niall began as Paul opened the van door for me.

Again, such a gentleman, he deserves all the awards.

“Fuck everything Simon said and do what we want?” I asked hopefully as I made my way to the back of van, plopping down beside Zayn.

“No,” Niall returned from the front row, shaking his head, “We’re going to Nando’s.”

“Niall, Nando’s doesn’t solve every problem you come across,” Louis stated as he clapped him on the back.

“Guys, no-" Niall sighed, clearly sick of the rest of us, "Uncle Si said he’d call the paps and they’d be there when we got out. I mean, since we have to do this we might as well get it over with, right, Len?”

I stared daggers at Niall for a few moments before his pleading face got to me. I sighed and shook my head, “I guess, but I still say fuck the creep and let’s go home.”

“It’ll be fine, there won’t be fans. Just paps, and only a few. Then tomorrow the pictures will be out and we’ll just do a twitcam, okay?” Niall tried to reason.

“But, Niall!” I began to plead, "Instead we cou-"

“Just trust me, Len, please.”

# +

Towards the end of our meal I started to worry a bit. I mean it’s not everyday you’re pushed unwillingly into the world of celebrities. If you were in my shoes I’m sure you’d be uneasy about it too.

“Quit worryin’ about it, lassie. It won’t be that bad,” Paul said to me as I finished off my chicken.

“But Paul, you aren’t a teenage girl hangin’ out with this lot. It’s different for you,” I countered.

He chuckled a bit and nudged me with his shoulder, “I understand what yer sayin’, but just ask Harry about it. I’m sure he can reassure ya.”

I looked over to my other side where Harry was giving me a sympathetic look. “Paul’s right you know, it isn’t that bad, and it gets better with time," he advised, offering me a reassuring nod, "Plus, it’s not like you’ll have hormonal preteen girls fawning over your every move.”

I let out a hearty laugh at Harry’s comment before I said, “I know, I know, this is just the last thing that I ever wanted.”

He gave me a crooked smile, “Just stick close to us.”

“Ready to go then?” Liam asked the lot and in return he got a chorus of affirmations and nods. I must not have looked entirely convincing because he gave me a second look and raised a brow, "You sure?"

I nodded. "Not like I've got much of a say in it."

 

As we made our way through the restaurant to the front doors my mind and body were numb, and not just from the drugs. The only thing I could think was ‘ _RUN, BITCH, RUN_!’, but that didn’t happen because I was surrounded by one very burly man and five lads that could easily take me down.

So I had to swallow my pride and push away my fears and just go with them on this. Sure, Niall’s let me down and tricked me into doing stupid things before, but I think he’s taking this seriously since he knows how much I don’t want to do this. And let’s face the facts here, Niall is never ever ever serious. _Ever_.

Ten points to Niall for being serious for the first time in his life.

“Just stick close to us, keep your head down, and for all that is holy, keep your mouth shut,” Niall whispered into my ear as we exited the building, to which I nodded in response.

I’m not gonna give anyone grief on this since they know what’s gonna happen and I have no fucking clue.

Immediately we were met with a mass amount of flashes and questions (so much for 'just a few paps'). Things like, ‘Is that someone’s girlfriend?’ ‘What’s your name, sweetheart?’ ‘Could you smile for the camera, love?’ and all that shit. It took everything in me not to lash out at the daft paps and rip their goddamn cameras from their hands to smash them into a million tiny pieces, but I did it. I did it for my brother.

# +

Niall

I watched Lennon through the sliding glass door that lead to my balcony as she smoked a cigarette, taping her fingers on the railing; I guess you could call it one of her nervous ticks. I know she’s freaking out about later this evening, which will be when we do our twitcam with her.

I’m actually really proud of her for yesterday. Letting the paps see her is the last thing she ever wanted in her life, I’m sure, but she did it. And I’m pretty sure she did it for me. Er, at least I know that she didn’t yell and ambush the paps for me.

 

“We’re hereeeeee!” Louis bellowed as my front door flung open.

“Hey, guys. Why don’t ya go get everythin’ set up, I’ll get Len,” I said.

“Sure thing, mate. Everything been alright with her?” Liam asked, slipping off his jacket and tossing it onto the chair.

“Yeah, yeah. I think she’s just a little antsy about it all. Ya know,” I returned casually.

He nodded his head and followed the rest of the lads up to my room. When they were all out of earshot I took a few deep breaths and rubbed my hands over my face and through my hair in an attempt to mentally prepare myself for all of this. As I stepped onto the balcony Lennon took a long drag and faced me, “Are they here, then?”

“Yeah, are you ready?” I asked.

She let out a heavy sigh and stubbed out her smoke, “S’ppose so.”

Lennon stretched her arms over her head and gave me a half smile before ambling toward the door. I followed quickly behind her and called out, “Len?”

She stopped in her tracks, “Yeah, Ni?”

“Just to let you know, twitter and the tabloids and everything really have been full of those pictures. The fans want answers and that’s what we're gonna have to give them in a bit,” I let out with a heavy heart, wrapping my arm around her shoulders and guiding her back inside.

Lennon’s demeanor became more, I don’t know, _off_? Not her? Sad? And it’s fucking killing me to see her like this.

“Right, of course,” she returned quietly.

“How about we take a couple shots?” I asked as I turned to my liquor cabinet.

Lennon cracked a genuine smile, “You know me too well.”

# +

“We’re all really happy you could take the time to watch this little broadcast,” Zayn spoke to the computer.

“And we’re all terribly sorry that it’s been so long,” Liam added.

“But we’ve been busy with all sorts of things to get ready for the tour,” Harry interjected.

“BUT WE STILL LOVE YOU ALL SO MUCH!” Louis shouted, pushing his head in front of everyone else.

The lads and I had discussed that we would talk and keep our fans distracted for a while so Lennon could adjust and watch us. But for now I was letting my and Lennon’s buzzes settle in as we watched from the doorway.

“So what’s gonna happen?” Lennon whispered to me.

I tipped my head in her direction and whispered, “They’re gonna talk and do whate’r the fuck for a while, then the questions will start comin’. Most of dem are goin’ to be about ya, I’m guessin’. We’ll call ya over and introduce you and get that outta the way.” She nodded her head in understandment, but she looked a bit unsure of herself. “Don’t worry about what they’ll say or anythin’, it’ll be fine.”

“How people treat you is their karma; how you react is yours,” she said as she looked me in the eye.

I opened my mouth to speak but was cut off.

“Oi, Niall! Nice of you to join us!” Louis shouted over to me, “We were just about to answer some questions!”

I gave Lennon a nod and her arm a squeeze before I joined the lads. “Well, I’m here now. Let’s get to it,” I said as I sat beside the lads.

“Ooookay, first question: ‘When do you leave for tour?’ We’ll be leaving in less than two weeks.” Liam read and answered.

“‘Where are you right now?’ We’re at Niall’s flat, of course,” Zayn answered happily.

“‘Are any of you dating anyone?’ No, we are not,” Harry replied.

“Five single pringles ready to mingle!” Louis shouted while making some contorted face.

Then the questions about Lennon started pouring in and each of the lads looked at me wearily. Liam mouthed ‘ready?’ and I nodded my head. “‘Who is the girl in the photos from yesterday?’” Liam read aloud carefully and clearly.

And now it was my turn. It was my turn to break the news, to pull my sister into this messy life, to bring her worst fears into reality. It was my turn to make Lennon unhappy. I cleared my throat, “Er, well, that’s kinda why we were doing this twitcam today, actually. We knew that our fans, you guys, would see the photos, so we wanted to clear that all up.”

I looked over to Lennon who looked more nervous than ever, tapping her fingers against her thigh, as she watched her own life get turned upside-down with her own eyes, and she could do nothing to stop it.

I continued on, “The girl in the photos is probably the last person you’d think it is. Actually, I _know_ it’s the last person you’d ever think of. She really means a lot to me and the boys really care about her too.” I paused and took a deep breath, “She’s here with us right now and I want all of you to meet her.”

“Come on over, love,” Louis smiled, clearly trying his best to make her comfortable.

Lennon looked hesitant, but did as she was asked. I couldn’t have been more proud of her in this moment. She sat beside the lot of us and smiled at the camera with a sheepish, “Hello.”

“So, to all our fans, I’d like to officially introduce you to Lennon, my twin sister.”


	8. Stubborn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Recommended Listening: Mayday Parade - When I Get Home You're So Dead

Niall

I always do what I think is right, and sometimes what’s right is hard. Obviously this was proven to me when the lads and I did the twitcam with Lennon. Although I thought it would have led to some peace in life, well... Let’s just say it didn’t go over well.

I mean, it was a rocky start; our fans basically shit their pants when I told them (which I kind of expected), but after the initial shock we got normal questions.

Well, as normal as you can get from our fans.

Hell, most of them were understanding and really kind over the situation. The fans who were supportive are really going to make this whole thing a lot easier. In fact, when I said that Lennon was kept away for my own personal reasons they didn’t even pry.

 _A miracle, I know_.

But there were the select few who were really cruel and rude towards Lennon. It made my blood boil and I could tell Lennon was irate as well, but she bit her tongue and held her head high. I’ll never understand why some people can't understand and have it out for her though; she didn’t want this, she had nothing to do with it, and she can’t help that we’re related.

So when things started to get really aggressive we stopped, it was a bit too much for all of us.

Since we signed off that night Lennon’s been in one of her moods. This time she won’t look at or speak to anyone, she won’t come out of her room, I’m fairly certain she’s practically drowning herself in alcohol, and there’s a constant stench of weed coming from under her door.

Understandable and typical, but still disappointing.

All I want to do is talk to her, to tell her that everything will be fine- because it will be. I want to tell her that this is a good thing in the long run. But even I know that good things do not come easy, the road is lined with pitfalls.

# +

“Are ya sure you don’t wanna come in, Len?” I hollered back towards our van, squinting my eyes against the sun in a lousy attempt to see Lennon.

She rolled her eyes and half heartedly shouted back, “I’m _absolutely positive_ that I don’t want to come sit in a tiny room with a bunch of people who will be discussing me over the radio.”

“The fans know we’re here. Are ya sure you’ll be a’right in the car?” I asked, giving her one last chance to change her mind as I stood with my back against the building door to prop it open.

“I’m fairly certain that Paul and I can handle a few prepubescent girls,” she retorted, nudging Paul as he laughed.

“Suit yourself,” I returned, pushing myself off the door and following the lads into the radio station.

Since we, er, _I_ let out that I had a twin sister the five of us and Simon haven’t heard the end of it. It’s become so overwhelming that Uncle Si decided that we’d have to do one official interview on it so that the media and fans could 'soak it in', I guess.

As expected this interview hasn’t been anything like our other ones; all the regular boring questions have been forgotten and replaced with questions about Lennon. Instead of the interviewer focusing on Harry or Liam they’re focusing on me.

 

“So, Niall, tell us about the girl in the photos,” the interviewer said a bit too excitedly.

“Uh, well, that’s Lennon, my twin sister.”

“Right!” he exclaimed as if I’d won a prize, “But tell us this; why didn’t the fans know about her? Let’s be real here, your fans are a bit overzealous with information on the lot of you, why not on her?”

“Because I hadn’t spoken about her publicly,” I answered simply with a shrug. The bloke clearly wasn't impressed with my answer and pressed on.

“Well what about you lads, how long have you known about Lennon?” the interviewer asked smugly.

Zayn cooly answered, “We met Lennon two or so weeks ago, back at Niall’s place.”

“You mean you didn’t even tell your _bandmates_ about having a twin sister?! After four years no less!” the man bellowed.

“No, I didn’t,” I returned in an irritated tone, already getting sick of the interview.

“Well you four must be pretty fumed then?”

“On the contrary,” Louis began, “It was a bit of a shock, but you deal with the twists life throws at you. We could never be mad at our boy Niall anyhow.”

The interviewer nodded thoughtfully as if this even made a goddamn difference in his life. The dude was way too keen for me to even tolerate being around. He readjusted himself in his seat and began his questions again.“So, Louis, tell me this; why did Niall keep Lennon a secret?”

Louis’ eyes shot to me as he fumbled over his words, “Uh, you see, that, uh, th-”

“I haven’t discussed it with them,” I interjected, anger drenching my words and my eyes narrowing at the mammoth idiot before me.

“Do you want to tell us now then?” he pried.

I scoffed and in a deadpan tone said, "It's my own personal reason."

# +

Lennon

“It’s my own personal reason,” Niall’s voice came through the car radio.

“Uhg, why won’t he just come out and say it!” I exclaimed, throwing my head against the side of the van in frustration.

Paul chuckled and moved to stand beside me, “Whatever the reason is I’m sure it’s a good one.”

I exhaled a drag from my cigarette and straightened my stance in an effort to reach Paul's height. “You know, don’t you?! Oh my God, Paul! Tell me, tell me, tell me, please!”

“Lassie, I don’t know. I swear,” Paul spoke as he crossed his heart, “He’ll tell you in time. When he’s ready.”

I scoffed and threw my hands in the air in irritation, “You know Niall, that could take years!”

“I thought you wanted to hear what they were sayin’. You can’t do that flappin’ your jaw,” Paul joked. I sighed knowing he was right and focused my attention back to the radio that played inside the car.

“But you still haven’t answered my question; _why_ is she staying with you?” the ridiculously obnoxious interviewer pressed.

There was a pause, but Niall answered. “We’re just catching up, ya know? I haven’t seen her in a while since we’ve been so busy.”

“Are you sure that’s all it is?”

“Yes,” Niall stated, the tone of his voice represented nothing but anger.

I huffed, “He’s gotten more stubborn.”

“Yeah, but for the better, right?” Paul raised an eyebrow.

I shrugged and took another drag. My eyes squinted against the afternoon sun as I looked at Paul. “For certain things, I guess."

The voices kept droning on and on; the interviewer was basically talking in circles, trying to get Niall to spill the dirt.

“I can't listen to this anymore. I’m gonna go get a coffee,” I nodded towards a small bookstore and café across the street, “Want anything?”

Paul smiled, “Just a black coffee. Thanks, lass.”

I trudged over to the little shoppe and stepped into the long queue. Most people would be irritated by having to wait for seven people before them to be served, but I don’t mind. _Especially_ since it means I won’t have to listen to the lads on the radio for that much longer.

I took in the building- it's decorations and environment and the awful coffee shop music that played softly from the speakers. I took in the people- the friends and teenagers and the tidbits of their conversations I could here.

I felt a tap on my shoulder. “Lennon?”

“Yeah?” I asked in a sour tone and spun around, half anticipating it to be some fangirl. Except I wasn’t facing a fangirl, I was facing Flynn; an old... _friend_ , I guess you could say, from back home. “Flynn, hey! What are you doing here?” I asked as he wrapped his arms around me in a tight embrace.

“Getting coffee, it is a coffee shoppe,” he smirked, eyes crinkling like they always did.

“Oh fuck off, I meant London. What are you doing in London?” I laughed, watching as his hands raked through his shaggy brown hair before they landed in his front pockets.

“Been here for two years, goin’ to uni.”“Well that explains why I hadn’t seen you ‘round then.”

“I wouldda been barkin’ up your tree everyday, as usual, if I was still there. You know that,” he devilishly teased with a wink. “But why are you here? I thought you didn’t want to be bothered with busy cities.”

I groaned with a heavy sigh, “Got shipped off to, and I quote, ‘clean up my act’.”

“ _What_?” Flynn gasped, right hand settling on his heart in mockery, “Lennon Shea Horan cleaning up her act? Say it ain’t so!”

“Oi!” I snapped, “I can totally do it!”

“That’ll be the day!” he retorted. “How’s it been goin’ so far?”

“Well you know me...”

“So it hasn’t been goin’ at all. Nice to know you haven’t changed,” he smiled while placing his hand on my arm.

“S’not like anyone’s doin’ anythin’ to make sure I’m sticking to it,” I shrugged while giving him a sly smile.

“Where are ya stayin’? Mummy and Daddy Horan _surely_ haven’t let you gone galavanting to another country on your own.”

“I’m staying with the devil himself, of course,” I returned in a sarcastically happy tone.

“Fuck! You’re stayin’ with Niall? That’s gonna make things a bit complicated.”

I raised an eyebrow, “What do you mean _things_?”

His hand traced up my arm, “Oh come on, Len. Let’s pick up where we left off.”

“You mean fuckin’ from dark ‘til dawn while we’re off our rockers?” I asked, ignoring the dirty looks I got from the people in front of us while taking a few steps forward in line.

Flynn smirked, “That’s exactly what I mean.”

“Well I couldn’t possibly turn your offer down, but getting around Niall will be a bit tricky,” I answered with a small smile.

“Is he here?”

“No...”

“Good,” he smiled, grabbing my arm and pulling me from the queue towards the restroom.

# +

After a rousing trip to the restroom and a quick exchange of numbers with dearest Flynn, I returned to the queue to finally purchase the coffee I promised myself and Paul and made my way back over to the van. Things would have been all peachy keen and sunshine if I was only returning to Paul, he knows I can handle myself, but I was met with Paul, four lads, and one very, _very_ angry looking brother.

“WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN?” Niall shouted at me.

“Uh, getting coffee,” I stated as if it were obvious, because it was. I had two steaming cups of coffee in my hands.

“Where is your phone?” he yelled again.

“My pocket, why? What’s up with the third degree?”

Niall grabbed my phone from my front pocket, “I’ve been calling you for fifteen minutes, why didn’t you answer? And why don’t you have any missed calls?”

I rolled my eyes and handed Paul his coffee. I took a sip of mine before saying, “I changed my number three years ago, Niall.”

Niall's shoulders gave a bit of a slump and he shifted around a bit before finding something to say. “You know you aren’t allowed to go anywhere by yourself!”

I shook my head in disbelief and took another sip of my drink. I gave a glance behind Niall and four fifths of FF stood behind him looking like awkward ducks, not knowing what to do or say.

“Calm down, mate. It was across the street and Paul knew I was there,” I replied dryly.

Niall cocked his head and turned to Paul. “You knew? You knew and you didn’t say anythin’?!”

“You gotta give credit where credit’s due, Niall. She can take care of herself,” Paul spoke up as he casually took a drink.

 

Bless Paul. Bless him to bits.

 

Niall opened his mouth to speak but was cut off by my phone ringing. “Can I have that please?” I basically stated with my hand outstretched.

“No.”

“Can ya at least tell me who it’s from?”

Niall’s eyes locked onto my phone and he muttered, “ _Flynn_?”

That’s when my breath hitched.

Flynn, for whatever reason, always texts me after we fuck. Don’t ask me why because our relationship is anything but a normal relationship, more of a fuck and duck kind of situation. But he’s done it ever since our first romp four years ago. I guess it’s a bit of a tradition.

“Why the _fuck_ is Flynn texting you?” Niall asked with a look of repulsion on his face.

“Beats me.”

 

Lie.

One big, fat lie.

 

Niall’s fingers tapped the screen a few times before he looked at me again, “Do you want to know what it says?”

I sucked in a sharp breath, “Enlighten me.”

“‘It’s nice to have you back in my life, darlin’. Next time we fuck we’ll have to bring some goods.’ Please tell me that he has the wrong number,” Niall sighed while he rubbed his temple with two fingers.

“I’ve been told to clean up my act, so I guess that means I can’t lie,” I replied with a sweet smile just to spite him.

“Get in the car.”

# +

Niall

“Mate, I don’t see what the big deal is,” Zayn said from his spot on the couch beside me.

“The big deal is that she just fucked Flynn Brady again!” 

“ _Again_?” Zayn smirked.

I groaned and whacked his arm. “Don’t fucking start. She’s been fucking around with that guy for years. I can’t believe she’s still such a slag.”

“Niall, two things,” Louis began, “One; you shouldn’t be calling your sister a slag. Two; it’s not the end of the world. She’s an adult, she’s gonna do what she wants to do.”

“But you don’t know Flynn. He’s no good for her!” I threw my arms up in exasperation, “He gets around, he drinks excessively, he’s so far deep into drugs, he’s- he’s...”

“He’s _exactly_ like Lennon?” Harry offered.

“Are you implying that my sister gets around?” I sneered.

“I guess we’ll know soon enough,” Harry smirked.

 

That was it.

That was the moment I’ve been waiting for since Lennon arrived.

That was one of the reasons I was so apprehensive to even let her come live here.

The fact that Harry, or any of the lads, might fuck my sister.

The fact that Lennon would do it just to piss me off.

The fact that Lennon has no regard for other people our boundaries, Harry as well.

The fact that Harry gets around way more than Lennon only adds to this list.

 

“ _Wha’ the fuck did ya jus’ say_?”

“Mate, it was a joke,” Harry drawled, putting his hands up in mock innocence.

“Didn’t fuckin’ sound like it to me,” I snapped, rising to my feet and trudging over to Harry to make a point.

“Niall-” Harry began, clambering to his feet.

“No, Harry. I fuckin’ told you the day she came here to stay away from her, and I fuckin’ meant it," I yelled, practically seeing red. "That goes for all of you. Don’t touch her. Don’t kiss her. Don’t look at her the wrong way. And above all, don’t fuck her,” I snarled, taking a step closer to Harry with each sentence.

“Alright,” Liam spoke as he stepped between us, “We all heard you loud and clear, Niall. None of us are going to go near her. _Right_ , lads?”

“Absolutely,” Louis chirped.

“I swear, if any of you go against that you’re dead.”


	9. Essentially Inessential

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Recommended Listening: Matchbox Twenty - Real World

'We are going to die, and that makes us the lucky ones. Most people are never going to die because they are never going to be born. The potential people who could have been here in my place, but who will in fact never see the light of day, outnumber the sand grains of the Sahara. Certainly those unborn ghosts include poets greater than Keats and scientists greater than Newton.

'We know this because the set of possible people allowed by our DNA so massively outnumbers the set of actual people. In the teeth of these stupefying odds it is you and I, in our ordinariness, that are here.'

 

This... quotation, piece of artwork, brilliance even, is my favorite thing to read. It reminds me of how great I could be while still allowing me to consciously know that I’m a spec in this universe; essentially inessential.

But in life I’ve never been praised or personally told that I could be great, not ever.

In fact, when Greg, Niall, and myself were kids, our parents would always tell Greg how smart he was, how strong he was, how perfect he was. And then there was Niall. They’d tell him how funny he was, how well he could sing, how good he was. But I, plain ole Lennon, never heard that. I never heard how good I was, or how smart I was, or how pretty I was. Because even as a kid I was a fuck up, and I never grew out of it.

Each day at home was a reminder of that, and me being the silly, foolish girl I am, thought that the day I left would be the day all of that stopped. Which it of course did not.

Maybe you recall what Niall, Harry as well, said about me? Which, you know, happened to be the fact that I’m the world’s slaggiest slag in the history of slags and that I’m way too caught up in drugs and alcohol to be a proper member of society. AKA: Reason 986 Why I Hate Niall and Harry.

Maybe Niall thinks that his flat’s walls aren’t paper thin and that his dumb, un-homey, modern decorating tactics don’t create echoes, but they do. His flat is the perfect setting for listening in on other’s conversations without even being on the same level, but Niall will never know; he never has been the brightest.

Anyway, back to my main point; I am essentially inessential, a waste of space, if you will. But I’ve always wondered what it would be like to be important or good at something, to be a rainmaker, to be a superhero, to be the head honcho, or, most importantly, what it would be like to be respected and taken seriously.

I bet you’re wondering why I’m suddenly on this whole spiel about all this shit. Well, the fact of the matter is that I’ve got to meet my parents with Niall to talk about, well, to talk about me and my ‘progress’.

Sounds lovely, doesn’t it?

Note the heavy sarcasm.

 

As I am currently allowing my thoughts to dwindle, Niall is on the phone with our mum; again, I can hear everything he’s saying from across the flat. Most of it is positive stuff, though, so it’s all a lie.

“Yeah, mum, she’s doin’ a lot bettah,” Niall lied straight through his teeth, “Hasn’t had a drop of anythin’ since she’s been here.” Lie number two.

I scoff and roll my eyes to myself, there’s no way mum would actually believe that. She knows better than anyone how fucked up I truly am. But what I’m really hung up on is whether or not Niall’s lying is good. And by good, I mean good for me.

If our parents believe his lies will I get to go home? Will they make me move out?

Or if they see right through his lies will I have to go to rehab? Will I have to stay here? Will they even want to face me?

# +

Niall and I pulled up to Nando’s (yes, Nando’s because mummy dearest will do anything to make her pride and joy happy) in his ridiculously over-the-top car.

As he shifted the gears into park he spoke to me, “So, Lennon, I kind of told mum that you were doin’ well with this whole ‘cleanin’ up yer act’ thing.” He eyed me for a reaction, but I made no move. “Right, then,” he awkwardly scratched the back of his neck, “Jus’ try not tah get on anyone’s bad side, a’right?”

“Whatever,” I returned with an exaggerated eye roll.

Within minutes we were seated in front of our parents in a secluded booth at the back of the restaurant. To say that I thought this little encounter would be awkward would be a ginormous understatement.

 

I’ve prepared myself for the worst.

 

“Niall, son,” our dad boomed, “It’s so good to see you!”

“You’ve got no idea how much I’ve missed you!” our mum added.

Niall smiled brightly, “It’s great to finally see you guys again, too.”

 

And during their little greetings and small talk I sat there like a lone sock that lost it’s match many, many moons ago.

Okay, I know that analogy sucks, don’t judge.

Seriously, though, ten minutes passed before it was even acknowledged that I was there.

 

Mum shot me a tight lipped smile while dad said, “So, Niall tells us you’re doing well.”

I glanced over to Niall whose eyes were pleading with me to just go with it. “I, uh, I s’ppose so, yeah.”

“That’s grand. I knew if anyone could get ya back on track it’d be Niall,” he said almost too proudly.

Hell, let’s face it, it was _way_ too proudly. He said it as if Niall found the cure for cancer, or went to the moon, or discovered some alternate fuel source. And it disgusted me. It disgusted me to know that Niall was getting even more praise than usual for something he’s only, if anything, _worsened_ , not fixed.

I shot my parents a meek smile, “Yeah, Niall’s fixed me up real nicely,” and patted my shithead brother on the back.

“Oh, I wouldn’t take the credit for this,” Niall spoke up, “Lennon has really been pushing herself to do better.”

“You must be rubbing off on her then! That’s excellent,” mum cheered before nodding at dad with a smile.

 

Cue my perfected eye roll.

Seriously, I should get an award for how awesomely perfect my eye roll is; it puts rich, stuck up valley girls to shame.

 

“Yeah, s’all been grand. Niall’s a wonderful influence,” I returned in a dead tone as I fiddled with the silverware in front of me.

But let’s be real here, Niall’s an awful influence. He drinks almost as much as I do, only said something about me smoking cigarettes once, has smoked weed with me multiple times since I’ve been here, and has only caught me on pills once. He’s about as good of an influence as Lana Del Rey is a singer.

Which is terrible.

Lana Del Rey is a _terrible_ singer.

Just thought I’d clear that up.

 

Our conversation was put aside while we indulged in our meals, (us Horan’s like to eat, a lot) but unfortunately that only lasted ten minutes tops (we eat extremely quickly, even while in public, in fear that our wondrous family members will take our food, it happens all the time).

“So you leave for the tour in two days, righ’ darlin’?” mum asked Niall as she sipped on her wine.

“Yeah, the lads and I are really excited,” he said with a smile.

They droned on about all the destinations and things the lads would be doing during the tour as I sat and played with the salt shaker sitting next to me. I honestly give no fucks when it comes to FF; I’d rather debate the Queen’s shoe size with the homeless man, Ronan, that lives by the train tracks back home.

Believe me when I say that because I’ve done it before. It’s much, much, _much_ more riveting than this shit.

Plus I actually enjoy Ronan’s company, unlike the cows I call family.

But soon enough their conversation got to me and I’d been holding in a question for nearly an hour, so in one breath I let out, “It’s really great that you love Niall and talking about Niall’s band and what kind of deodorant he prefers and all things Niall but what the fuck is happenin’ to me in two days or now even can we discuss that because I don’t even know wha’ the fuck I’m gonna do!”

There was a brief silence before, I kid you not, all three of them said, “ _Lennon, language_!” simultaneously.

Insert world’s most giant eye roll ever here.

“But seriously, what happens to me?! I know I’m not your favourite topic, or favourite anythin’, but I need to know!” I let out as loudly as possible without disrupting the other customers. Because I do have some decency, thank you very much.

My parents shared a look and then looked to Niall, then to me, and back to each other. A classic tell tale sign that they hadn’t a clue and haven’t discussed it previously.

“Brilliant,” I muttered, earning a swift jab from Niall’s elbow into my side.

As I rubbed the spot I’d been impaled, mum asked me a question, “Well what would ya do if ya came back home?”

I sighed, “I dunno.”

Which I didn’t, I had no clue. If anything, I’d probably go see Rosie and we’d find something to take, enjoy it, and repeat everyday for the rest of our lives.

Mum and dad looked disappointed with my answer, which I get, but what did they really expect? I mean, come on!

“Have you given any thought to your schooling?” dad asked, but he already knew the answer.

“Same thing I said to you before I left; I don’t have anythin’ to go to school for.”

“What about gettin’ a job?” he asked.

I grimaced, “There’s no where to work in Mullingar, dad. You know that.”

Surprisingly Niall was silent during all of this. Probably in fear that if he said anything, and it didn’t work out in my favor, I’d kick his arse.

“ _Wait_!” Mum exclaimed suddenly, “What if you stay with Niall?! He’s been so great with getting you on track and I feel that if you came home so soon you’d just revert back to old habits. He could keep you in check!”

“Mum!” Niall let out exasperatedly, “I leave in two days! I can’t watch her!”

“I’m not a child, I don’t need to be watched!” I let out with a sour glare, though no one heard me it seemed.

“She could go on tour with you, darlin’! Plus, you two could try to get back to how you used to be! It’ll be great!” mum cheered again, eyes wide and eyebrows raised as she nodded excitedly to us.

“That’s not gonna happen,” I deadpanned.

“What she said,” Niall let out as he jabbed his thumb in my direction.

Mum's shoulders slumped. “Are ya sure?” she asked in a disappointed tone.

In response Niall and I let out a heavy, “Yes!” in unison.

She put her hands up in defense, “Jus’ a thought, sorry!”

This put me at ease; knowing that I wouldn’t have to deal with FF or UC ever again. Even Niall was visibly more relaxed.

“So, Lennon,” dad began, “I guess you’ll be comin’ home with us tonight.”

I cracked a genuine smile for the first time in the hour and a half we’d been sitting there, “Great.”

# +

Mum and dad went back to their hotel to pack up their belongings and were to meet Niall and myself at the back entrance of the airport.

As I was folding and stuffing my clothes back into my duffle bag there was a smile on my face that I couldn’t prevent. It was there to stay until I had to deal with some shithead.

As if on cue with my thoughts, Niall knocked on the door frame.

“Len?”

“Yeah, Niall?” I asked, looking up at him momentarily before returning back to my bag.

“Er, uh, well,” he began, scratching the back of his neck and looking about the room, “It was great seein’ ya again. Maybe when I get back from the tour we can see each other again? Go for a pint or somethin’?”

“Oh, uh, yeah. Sounds good.”

“Great, great,” he trailed off.

He just stood there, though, in the door frame, like he was waiting for me to say something to him. Something important or some kind of revelation, it seemed.

But since I was leaving and wouldn’t see Niall for a year, I let the curiosity get the best me. A terrible trait, I know. Curiosity killed the cat and all that jazz.

“Niall, why isn’t it that simple?”

He gave me a confused look, “What are ya on about?”

“Niall,” I said, “You know exactly what I’m talkin’ about. Don’t play dumb.”

“It’s jus’, i-it’s, it’s not simple, Len. When we go get that pint, maybe I’ll tell ya, a’right?”

I nodded my head, but on the inside I was screaming, ready to slap him silly for keeping it from me this long.

# +

Niall and I stood at the back entrance of the airport, waiting on mummy and daddy dearest to get their slow arses there. It was kind of awkward, too. I thought Niall and I had gotten past all the weird silences, but I guess I was wrong.

Niall nudged his shoulder into mine to grab my attention. “I really am glad you’ve been here for the past few weeks,” Niall confessed.

I gave him a small smile and a nudge back, “Yeah, it’s been... nice.”

“Yeah,” he repeated, “Nice.”

A cab rounded the corner and Niall shoved his hands into his jacket pockets and went back to being silent. I rolled my eyes and sighed (We never get far with us, it's almost like one step forward and five steps back with every interaction.). Niall helped our parents grab their bags out of the boot of the car and I couldn't help but feel a twinge of jealousy as I heard them fawn over Niall for the billionth time today.

“Well, son,” dad clapped Niall on the back, “It’s been great tah see ya. Good luck with the tour, don’t forget to give us a ring e’ry once in a while.”

“Right, course dad,” Niall smiled.

Mum turned to Niall, “Baby, I’m so proud ah you. I love you. Ring me everyday.”

He chuckled before bending down to hug mum. “Love ya too, mum. I will.”

And cue the water works. Anything even the slightest bit sappy will put her over the edge, and Niall just told her that he _loved_ her and that he’d ring her _everyday_?! That boy must be mad and looking to make that woman cry for three days straight.

Luckily, dad took her off toward the building to calm down before it turned into a full on breakdown in the middle of London.

Niall turned to me, brows pressed together and a somber look on his face. “I meant what I said earlier, Len. Every bit of it.”

“Right,” I gave a stilted smile, “Sure thing. We’ll get that pint soon.” He gave me a slight smile, probably due to me ignoring all the touchy feely stuff that I’m not fond of. “Tell the lads I said goodbye, and, for the love of God, patch things up with them. They haven’t been over in days because you got so overprotective! Sort it out, a’right?” I advised while slinging my duffle over my shoulder.

He nodded, “Just lemme know when ya land, a’right? Mum’s got my number, and I’ve gotten your’s from her. So jus’ do it, _please_.”

“Alright, alright! Don’t get all mushy with me!” I joked and began to walk towards the airport doors.

“Don’t do anythin’ stupid with Rosie when ya get home!”

I turned myself so I was walking backwards, “You know I never listen to anyone, Niall! I plan on getting pissed the second we land!”

Niall gave me a serious look and shouted, “Don’t fuck this up for yourself, Len! I’ll be gone, they’ll send ya tah rehab and ya know it!”

I grimaced, “I guess we’ll see when the time comes, eh?”

# +

Niall

“I guess we’ll see when the time comes, eh?” Lennon shouted over the ten metres between us.

I shook my head in disbelief as she spun on her heel and rounded through the doors.

That girl is seriously going to fuck her life up before it even starts, I kid you not.

I mean, she’s already planning on getting pissed before she’s even home?! We just got mum and dad to believe our story! The second she comes home drunk or high they’ll know we lied.

They’ll know she’s still a ‘fuck up’, as Lennon so eloquently put it, and they’ll know that I didn’t help Lennon at all.

She’ll be shipped off to rehab within a week.

 _I guarantee it_.

 

The moment I came to the conclusion that Lennon was gonna get herself landed in rehab was the moment I started running. I ran as fast as I could through the airport doors, in search of the three familiar faces I just said goodbye to. I ran past all sorts of people, occasionally bumping into a few, and ignoring all the calls from people who did recognize me.

I needed to get to them before they reached security.

I ran as fast as my feet could carry me, though it didn’t seem fast enough.

But I finally found what I was looking for, my family.

 

“ _WAIT_!” I shouted, “Wait, Lennon!”

Her head snapped around and she gave me a funny look as I slowed down in front of them. “What is it, Niall? You’re makin’ a scene,” Lennon smirked.

“Ya can’t go back to Mullingar.”

“Why not?” she asked incredulously, giving me an 'are you fuckin' nuts' look.

“Things are gonna go down hill really fast, I can tell.”

“Where is she s’pposed to go then?” dad asked.

I began with, “Well,” but was cut off.

“I knew it!” mum yelled, “I knew you’d have the good sense to let her stay with you!”

Lennon grimaced and slowly turned from them to me, “Are ya fuckin’ serious?”

“Yep,” I grinned, “Welcome to the 1D family.”

Lennon dropped her duffle with a thud and threw her head back in frustration. "Fuck."


	10. Here and Now

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Recommended Listening: The Killers - Sam's Town

My mind was reeling over the fact that I was actually, not by choice, going on tour with FF. The more I thought about it, the angrier I got; realizing that I wouldn’t be seeing Rosie and doing what I want in the near future. Nope, I was stuck with Fucker, Fancy, Mysterious, Muscles, and, God forbid, Curls.

The thought made me cringe.

I flipped to my side and was met with Flynn’s sleeping face. As much as I love this boy (as a fuckbuddy, mind you), it was always a bit irritating when he fell asleep in my bed after our rendezvous and didn’t go home. But on the plus side, when this did happen, we could have a go at another round before he left.

“Oi,” I shout-whispered while poking Flynn’s cheek, “Wake up!” He didn’t stir. “Flynn, wake up you git!” I said a little louder, shoving a pillow in his face.

He groaned, simultaneously shoving the pillow off of his face to rub his eyes. “What do ya want?” he asked with one eye open.

“For you to wake up, fuck me, and leave,” I stated matter-of-factly.

He smirked and said, “A’right, a’right. Don’t get your knickers in a twist,” as he clambered over my body, supporting his weight on his forearms.

“Uhg, just shut it already,” I teased, grabbing the back of his head and smashing our lips together; ultimately blocking out all the unpleasant thoughts of FF and the tour.

# +

Flynn and I laid in our post-sex frenzy of tangled limbs and tangled hair, our chests heaving in an attempt to catch our breath. Flynn raised his head to look at me laying with my head at the foot of the bed and gave me a crooked smile before grabbing my thigh with his left hand and giving it a squeeze. I chuckled and sat up so I could clamber over to lay properly next to him.

My hand rested on his scruffy jaw as I looked into his blue eyes and I couldn't help but wonder if maybe this is what my future was. Flynn and postcoital bliss didn't seem like such a bad life.

My hand found its way into his shaggy brown hair that was unbelievably mussed and his hand rested on my waist. I opened my mouth to speak, but my words were cut short with a sharp knock on the door.

“Lennon!” boomed through the wood.

I groaned while shoving Flynn into an upright position, urging him to get dressed and out with violent hand gestures. “Niall?” I asked as I got off the bed and searched for my clothes.

“We’re leaving in half an hour,” he spoke, “So I suggest you and Flynn get dressed and get out, the lads are usually early.”

Flynn gave me a surprised look with wide eyes and raised brows as he mouthed, ‘ _How_?’

I shrugged my shoulders just as Niall called through the door once more. “You two could be a bit quieter ya know. I’m sure the neighbours won’t be too pleased.”

I, along with Flynn, let out a bark of laughter. It hadn't been my intention to be loud, in fact, I was aiming for the opposite. Also, Niall should no better than to think I'll care what the neighbours will say.

It’s like he doesn’t know me at all.

# +

Liam

Words cannot explain how pumped I am for the tour; I feel like I’ve been waiting an eternity for it to get here, when in actuality it had only been finalized a few months prior. But the point is that I’ll be spending seven glorious months on the road with my best mates. Oh, and Lennon, Niall’s bringing her along too.

When Niall told the lot of us the tale it seemed like Lennon had apparently found some way to get home, and Niall was fine with that, but as she left he had some ‘gut feeling’ that something terrible would happen. So he’s dragging her even further from home and across the world.

But I don’t mind that she’s coming and neither do the lads. It’ll be nice to have some female company. Maybe take the testosterone level down a bit.

The lads, myself, and Paul stood alongside the van outside Niall’s complex, watching as he, Lennon, and some guy walked towards us.

“Aye, mate!” Louis greeted Niall, clapping him on the back, “Ready to get this tour started?!”

Niall flashed a bright smile, “Absolutely!”

He and Louis chatted as I eyed Lennon and the mystery man who stood a few metres back; Zayn and Harry seemed to be doing the same.

“Who do you reckon that is?” Harry asked us.

Zayn shrugged, “Maybe a mate?”

“Probably,” I complied before shifting my gaze back to Lennon and the lad.

“Oi, Niall?” Harry called, shoving his weight off of the van and into a standing position.

“Yeah?” Niall snapped his attention over to us.

“Who’s that with Lennon?” Harry persisted, head nodding in their direction.

Niall gave a sideways glance to his sister. “Oh, that’s Flynn,” he spoke with disgust. With a shake of his head he strode toward the boot to through his things into the van.

“Ah, the infamous Flynn,” Louis teased with a smirk, nudging my arm with his. I shook my head playfully at his words. Sure it was all in good fun, but as we _all_ know, it's a sore subject for Niall and I'd like to start this tour off on the right foot. And the right foot does not include goading Niall about Lennon's antics.

She moved towards us, the lad following closely behind. “Sup, guys,” she nodded and adjusted the strap of her duffle on her shoulder.

“Hey,” I returned with a smile, "Lemme get that for you."

She gave me a smile and a pat on the back as I took her bag, and it seemed like one of the first sincere interactions I've seen from her so far. I know that Lennon’s a bit... out there? But there is some part of me that wants to help her get back on track, to tell her that it will all be okay, and to get to know her better. She seems like a genuine person and I think we’ll be fast friends on the tour.

I don’t know, there’s just something about her.

 

“Lads and lasse, we’ve got be goin’ or we’ll miss the flight,” Paul informed us.

“Right, wouldn’t want to be late,” I nodded.

I tossed Lennon's things into the back and we all filled into the van. I found that I couldn't help but watch as Lennon bid Flynn adieu. 

“Well, it was nice tah see ya again,” she spoke softly to him.

He smiled and placed his fingers under her chin. “Yeah, look me up next time yer in town, a’right?”

She cracked a crooked smile and cupped his fingers with her own. “Will do. Try not to miss me too much.”

Flynn let out a breathy laugh and shook his head with a smile. “Try not to replace me while you’re gallivanting ‘bout the world.”

“Please,” she smirked, “You’ll always be my fuckbuddy before anyone else.”

I grimaced at the thought of her subjecting herself to guys that way. They briefly hugged and he placed a kiss on her cheek. Lennon playfully pushed him away before she hopped into the van and he walked down the footpath.

“Right then,” Lennon sighed, “Where are we goin’?”

“The states,” Paul smiled.

# +

Lennon

After a grueling flight of dealing with FF and mob of fans that seemed to last a lifetime at the airport, we managed to get to the hotel.

And let me tell you something, this is a nice hotel. Like, really, really, _really_ nice. Five-star worthy nice. But I guess that’s a perk you get when you’re part of an international boy band.

Unfortunately for me, I was forced into a suite with those five idiots.

 

“LENOOOON!” came from the opposite side of the suite and I immediately grimaced.

“What?”

“Would you come here?” the same altered voice called, though I couldn’t place it for the life of me.

Begrudgingly, I trudged across to the room the voice came from, and snapped, “What is it?”

Fancy raised his eyebrows at me from his upside position hanging off of a bed, “Someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed.”

I glowered at him but soon shifted it over to Curls who was sat next to him offering an unsolicited muttered, “‘Cause she was fucking that rubbish Flynn character.”

“Oi!” I snapped once more. “You don’t know who I’ve been fuckin’ nor do you know Flynn, so I suggest you keep your trap shut.”

“You can tell just by lookin’ at him that he’s a mongrel,” Curls' voice sneered, but his face looked unbothered and bored.

The rage inside me was boiling as I stepped closer to Curls, “Fuck off. You dunno shit.” He only smirked in response, that smug, little shithead. “You come near me or say anythin’ against me or Flynn and I’ll rip your head off before the tour is over,” I threatened Curls while jabbing my finger into his chest.

“Alright then,” Liam clapped as he stepped between us, “I think that’s enough of that.”

I took a deep breath and forcefully pushed my hair behind my ears. “What did you need then?”

“Well,” Louis began, “We’ve got a show tonight.”

“And?”  
“And Niall said you had to come with us,” Louis returned sassily, flipping right side up now that his face was bright red from all his blood rushing to his head.

I groaned, “Where’s that fucker anyway? Why couldn’t he tell me this himself?”

“Probably didn’t want to deal with your shit attitude,” Curls mumbled.

“What’s that?” I asked condescendingly, “If you’re gonna try to insult me at least speak a little louder. Oh, and get some better material.”

“Seriously, Lou,” Zayn chuckled, “You’ve been officially stripped of your ‘sass-masta’ title and it’s been given to Lennon.” Louis whimpered and I gave him a smug smirk.

Liam sighed, “Anyway, we leave in an hour, Lennon. I trust you’ll be ready?”

# +

Soon enough I was sitting backstage with Paul, chatting aimlessly about all sorts of things; the hotel, food, not being able to wait to go to sleep, why I’m even here. You name it, we talked about it.

FF strutted towards us all done up, matching outfits and everything.

I chuckled at the sight of them, “Ah, here’s the little gang of misfits.” Paul let out a hearty laugh while the lads scowled at me.

“Ya know,” Niall teased, “If anyone here’s a misfit, it’s you.”

“He’s got a point there,” Curls agreed with a single nod.

I swear if I hadn’t taken a few shots and two pills (which I’m still waiting for to kick in) before we left, I’d be even more miserable. Not even Paul and all the food and fit lads in the world could bring me out of the funk I’m in when FF is present.

“Could you kindly fuck off?” I sneered with a sour face.

“Gladly,” Curls returned curtly.

As the boys were being whisked onto stage Niall shouted over his shoulder, “Paul! Don’t let her wander too far!”

I look over to Paul who has a knowing smirk on his burly face, “Wha’s that look about, Paul?”

“Oh,” he smiled, “Just that I know you’ll try to find some way to get out of here or to get a drink. But before you go off, just know that Niall does have faith in you to do the right thin’, and that I will be keepin’ an eye on you durin’ the tour.” I smiled, harboring the fact that Paul is the only one on my side. “Here’s my numbah,” he thrusted a piece of paper towards me, “Be careful. Call if you need anythin’. I’ll be there in a flash.”

“Sure, but I think I’m just gonna go lie down for a bit, yeah?”

He nodded his head and I headed off towards the dressing rooms.

But I don’t lie down like I said I would, I collect my belongings and head to the nearest exit. I know that Paul said I could leave, I just don’t really like the fact that he’ll know and that he will be responsible once Niall finds out.

I like Paul too much, I don’t want to get him in trouble. So if I lie and say I’m staying and then leave it’ll all be grand.

Don’t judge or criticize my logic, okay? It makes sense to me.

As I made my way out into the alley way I realized that I don’t even know what state I’m in. I mean, I am me, so of course I didn’t actually pay attention or care to ask exactly where we are. But as I stepped onto the footpath I took in the busy roads, tall buildings, and taxis it dawned on me.

Must be New York.

# +

As I wandered down the street in search for a bar I couldn’t help but get lost in my thoughts. Mostly thoughts about how angry I was with Niall for dragging me away from Rosie and all the douche bags back home that I call mates, for bringing me on this God forsaken tour with FF, for making our parents believe that I was clean.

It’s kind of unnerving, actually. Because I know that seven or so months from now, when I’m actually back in Mullingar, I won’t be clean like they think. I’ll probably be even further from it at this rate.

You spend your whole life stuck in a labyrinth, thinking how you’ll escape one day, and how awesome it will be, and imagining that future keeps you going, but you never do it. You just use the future to escape the present.

Think about it, though. I always thought about how I’d finally get out of Mullingar and go somewhere great, somewhere faraway. I thought that the moment I got away I’d be good; I’d be clean and I’d get my life on track.

So far, I’ve been proven wrong.

But in all of this, in life, I think we like to complicate things when it is really quite simple; find what it is that makes you happy and who it is that makes you happy and you’re set.

Though I haven’t found either of those things yet. I have no idea what I’m doing. I look around and everyone knows where they’re headed, or at least what they want.

Niall knew he wanted to be a singer at an early age, Flynn’s going to Uni, hell, even Rosie knows that she wants to go to Uni for nursing.

But me?

I’m lost.

So what does one do when they’re lost? They get a drink. A very strong drink.

 

I ambled into some dirty, old ‘Irish’ pub and plopped down on a barstool, taking in the characters whom I sat amongst; a few old men down the bar from me, a couple talking closely in a booth, and a group of friends maybe a few years older than me.

“What can I get for ya?”

I snapped my head around to be met with an older woman. “Just a whiskey, please.”

She nodded and began to get my drink, “Your not from around here are you?”

I shook my head, “No, I’m on holiday.”

“Irish, are ya? Where about?” she asked politely, her thick New York accent ringing in my ears.

“Mullingar,” I replied before taking a sip of my drink. She nodded thoughtfully and went back to cleaning the counters. I was thankful she hadn't asked for my I.D. and also that she wasn't the type to push conversation. All I wanted out of the night was a drink and some silence. Thankfully I got that.

I slowly nursed my drink and kept my eyes on the glass front window to watch the passerby and the cars whizzing past me and deeper into the city. My mind wandered off and I only realized that everything had been blank when I brought my glass back up to my lips and found that it was empty. 

I cleared my throat to ask for another round but my mind seemed to have other plans. “Do you know of any tattoo parlors near by?”

“Two blocks North, take a left, you’ll see it.”

I thanked her, ordered and finished another whiskey, payed, and left. I was determined to find this joint.

# +

I sat in an old parlor chair as a big, burly man named Ray with a beard almost as long as ZZ Tops’ began to gather the needed tools for my tattoos.

“So,” he began with a smile, “What and where?”

“On my ribs I’d like ‘Wanderlust’ in script and on my wrist I’d like ‘Here and Now’,” I answered, returning the smile.

He nodded his head as he prepped my bare skin, “Sounds like you’re from out of town. What is that? Scottish? Already got a bit of wanderlust goin’ on, eh?”

“Irish. I s’ppose you could say that,” I answered easily, not wanting to get into the real reason I was forced to America.

“Got any meanin’ behind it?” he asked, making pleasant conversation as the needle pressed into my skin, sending a tingling feeling through my body.

“Well,” I began as I pressed my lips tightly together, “At any point in your life you can walk away, fly away, drive away. You can completely change your life in an instant; if you want to. People are confined into their little communities, never really expanding their horizons, but the Earth is huge! To be able to see it all would be amazing, learning about different people and their cultures. I don’t know, I just think it’s nice.”

Ray grinned at me as the buzzing persisted, “I’ve always wanted to travel the world, too. One day I will, I just know it.” I smiled at the man, enjoying his relaxed nature. “What about the other one?”

“Oh, well that one is kind of a reminder about staying in the present. The future is scary, but you can’t just run back to the past because it’s familiar. Yes, it’s tempting, but, it’s a mistake. Sometimes I feel like I don't know what I had, but I know I want it back. And then I really remember, remember that I'm not too fond of my past. But then I think about all the possibilities of now. Sure, some parts of my past can be comforting, it’s just that it’s sad when the people who gave you the best memories become a memory. So I try to move on. I try to think of what I can do right now.”

Ray smiled empathetically at me.

We remained silent for a while after that, allowing me to think about how my little spiel on my second tattoo was mostly about Niall; mainly when I said that people who gave you the best memories become a memory. He’s my twin for Pete’s sake! We were essentially attached at the hip for sixteen years.

And when he left without a word he did become a memory; a memory that became distant and faded over time.

# +

I sat outside the venue door, smoking a cigarette and riding out the rest of my high. I fidgeted with the saran wrap over the fresh ink on my skin; eager to take it off and get a better look at the artwork on my body.

The heavy metal door behind me squeaked open, “Lennon?”

I turned around and giggled, “Paul!”

“Thought you said you were gonna sleep,” he said with a knowing smirk, stepping between the door and the alley, “But by the look of your eyes it seems as if you had other plans.”

“Oh, Paul,” I sighed in a teasing manner, “That was before we even left the hotel. I had a couple drinks at some pub and meandered about.”

Paul shook his head at me playfully before his eyes flickered to my wrist. “Uh oh, I know all too well what saran wrapped limbs mean.”

“It’s no big deal,” I assured him and took another drag.

Paul took a deep breath and took a step inside the building, “Whatever you say, darlin’. But the shows been over for a bit, Niall’s been looking for you.”

My mood dropped with the smile on my face. “Oh. Let’s get this over with then.”

Paul led me through the intricate hallways before opening a dressing room door and whispering, 'Good luck,' to me.

“There ya are, Len!” Niall shouted, beer in hand and a grin plastered onto his face.

“Here I am,” I returned, secretly glad that he was already mildly intoxicated; that meant there was less of a chance of me being chastised over everything.

“Where have you been?” Liam asked.

“Oh, you know,” I pushed the sleeves of my jacket down, “Just getting some fresh air.”

“Here, catch,” Zayn hollered at me while tossing a beer.

I swiftly caught it and thanked him with a nod.

Over a short period of time we were all in a drunk stupor and Paul somehow got us all back into our suite.

The drinks kept coming and I, surprisingly, was getting on with FF; joking and laughing with them.

It was the weirdest thing I’ve ever been a part of.

I swear.

Through the course of the night I lost any and all good senses I had and shed my jacket; exposing my wrist and my flimsy shirt clung to the wrap on my ribs.

“Heyyyy!” Zayn slurred, eyes squinted, “I know what those mean!”

“ _Shhh_!” I let out, “No one can knowww.”

Louis narrowed his bloodshot eyes at us, “What are you twooo whispering about?”

“Lennon’s got some ta-”

I slapped my hand over his mouth, “Shut it, Zaaayn!”

Louis stumbled closer and deadpanned, “Tell me.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“No.”

“Yes!”

“Louis,” I sternly warned, “Cut it out.”

Harry staggered into the common room with Niall and Liam trailing behind, “Wha’s goin’ on out here?”

“Nothing!” I snapped, shoving my arms behind my back.

“Heeeeey!” Harry lilted, his right hand holding his beer lazily pointed at me, “I saw that! Can I see ‘em?!”

I mentally buried my head in my hands and then physically buried my head in my hands. “You’re all a bunch of imbeciles.”

“Not nice!” Louis whined.

“Come on, Len. Tell us!” Niall chimed in.

“Alright,” I sighed from behind my hands, “But you _cannot_ get mad.”

“Deal,” Niall shrugged and tossed back the rest of his beer.

 

Oh, if he only knew.

And was sober.

Bless his ignorant, drunk ass.

 

I stretched my arm out in front me and pulled off the wrap. “There?! Happy?”

Zayn, Louis, Harry, and Liam nodded in approval while Niall grimaced. He staggered forward and grabbed my wrist to get a better look. “Seriously, Lennon?!”

“Wait, I know that isn’t the only one,” Zayn prodded as he pulled on my shirt with a cheeky smirk.

“A’right, a’right,” I spoke while swatting his hands away and repeated the process to reveal my ribs, “Happy now?”

The four agreed and Niall looked even more unhappy.

Slowly but surely I saw Niall’s sobriety peek through and anger gracing his features.

“ _LENNON_.”

“ _NIALL_ ,” I spoke through gritted teeth, “You said you wouldn’t get mad.”

“I did,” he complied, “I jus’ can’t imagine what the rest of the tour will be like if this is what you’ve done after only bein’ here a few hours.”

I shrugged my shoulders, “Ya probably should’ve jus’ let me go back to Mullingar.”

His shoulders fell and he murmured, “Probably.”


	11. A Matter of Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Recommended Listening: AWOLNATION - Not Your Fault

Louis

Life is weird.

It’s weird how some people can be so certain and have everything planned out, while other people are aimless and going through life without a purpose or direction.

It’s kind of like comparing me and the rest of the boys to Lennon.

I mean, we’ve basically got most things planned out; where we’ll be tomorrow, next week, next month, what we want to be doing five years from now. But Lennon, she’s the complete opposite; I’m fairly certain she doesn’t know what she’ll be doing five years from now, let alone what she’ll have for lunch today.

And I kind of envy her for that.

She’s this beautiful girl that doesn’t give two shits about anything and does what she wants. She doesn’t worry about her appearance or what anyone will think of her, and I think that’s really admirable.

I don’t think I could ever be like that. Hell, I don’t think any of the lads could be like that.

Not even Niall.

“Mate, look at these,” Zayn spoke as dropped a pile of tabloids in front of me.

I picked up the top one which was flipped to an article on us. “What about it?”

“Look at the last paragraph,” he said as he rubbed his hand over his eyes.

My eyes skimmed over the meaningless words and to where I was told to read. My jaw dropped open in astonishment. “Shit, man. What about the rest of these?” I asked as I rifled through the rest of the stack.

“They’re all some variation of that story. Ridiculous, isn’t it?”

I nodded in agreement, still shuffling through a few more of the articles. “How many are here?”

Zayn sighed, “Twenty-seven.”

“Shit,” I breathily let out, “Listen to this one. ‘It has been reported by multiple sources that the girl claiming to be Lennon Horan is in fact not Niall’s twin. The seemingly lookalike to international boy band member, Niall Horan, is rather a crazed fan.’ And it just goes on. Who would believe this or even make it up?!”

“It’s just the biggest load of rubbish I’ve ever heard. This one,” Zayn waved an article around, “Says that she has only reentered his life for his money and fame.”

I grimaced and rubbed my hand over my jaw, “What about twitter? Have you checked that?”

Zayn nodded and plopped down into the seat next to me. “It’s even worse. All the fans are talking shit and saying the same thing as these articles,” Zayn grumbled, “It’s just not fair to her.”

“Does she know?” I inquired.

He shook his head, “No, but I’m sure it’ll only be a matter of time.”

“What do you mean?”

“We’ve got that promo signing today. There’s no way Niall’s gonna let her stay here without someone to keep an eye on her. If the news doesn’t get to her today, it’ll get to her sometime soon.”

“Well, fuck.”

# +

“Guys, just let me stay in the car!” Lennon grumbled.

“Lass,” Paul spoke soothingly, placing a caring hand on her shoulder, “There are gonna be a ton of fans out here soon enough. They’ll go crazy if they got a hold of ya.”

“But Paul!” Lennon whined with an exaggerated frown. He only gave her a stern look in response. She let out a loud, frustrated huff, “Fine.”

Lennon trailed closely to myself and Zayn, “Why do you lads even do thin’s like this? Why would anyone need ya to write your name on something? That’s just ludicrous!”

I chuckled at her rant, “Love, I don’t even understand it myself. But it makes the fans happy and that’s all that matters.”

“God, you are too nice for your own good.”

“Oi, I resent that!” I teased with a mock angry face.

 

Within no time we were rushed into a large conference room type area and instructed to sit at an old folding table with computer chairs beside it. Maybe fifty metres away were glass double-doors, allowing us to see the infinite queue of screaming, prepubescent, hormonal fans.

I mentally groaned; today was going to be a long day.

“Hopefully some of them’ll be fit!” Harry’s deep voice exclaimed beside me.

My eyebrows furrowed together, “What did you just say?”

He sighed, “I said that I hope-”  
“No, Haz,” I cut him off, holding up my hand, “I heard what you said. I just don’t get why you’d care. They’re all our fans and, by the looks of it, are all much too young for you.”

He groaned and smacked his head on the table.

“Looks like someone needs tah get laid,” Lennon smirked as she walked over to us.

Harry lifted his head slightly and peeked through his curls, “Oh, sod off.”

“You’re just jealous that other people are gettin’ some and you aren’t,” she returned in a singsong voice.

I sniggered, she was absolutely right.

# +

Lennon

Well, my little comment to Curls definitely put me on his bad list. Not that I care since he was already on mine.

And I know that my relationships with people are kinda all over the place, but I just don’t put up with people treating me poorly.

I mean, I somewhat patched things up with Niall and sort of started an okay friendship thingy with Harry, but they both made those stupid comments about me being a slag that put them on my shit list.

So, since then I’ve been trying extra hard to find things to take the mickey out of them for.

“God, you’re such a bitch,” Harry mumbled.

I smirked, “So I’ve been told.”

He opened his mouth to say something but was cut off by a tsunami tide of shrill screams.

“Fuck,” escaped my lips as I whipped my head around to look at the now open doors.

Paul held out his arm in front of me, “Listen, Lennon, let’s go sit to the side.”

I shrugged and pulled my hood over my head. “Us Irish have to stick together, I s’ppose.”

He let out a hearty laugh and I began eyeing the various girls that rushed to line up in front of the lads, screaming like crazy.

There were quite a few little girls there; clutching their notebooks and wide smiles on each of their faces. It made me think of how I would’ve been like that if I met Take That at such a young age (a.k.a. my only boy band phase).

Then there was the completely opposite demographic; teenage girls, wearing either next to nothing or homemade t-shirts, screaming and crying and just being absolutely ridiculous.

I grimaced at a girl towards the front of the line; she wore a homemade cutoff t-shirt (killing two birds with one stone, eh?) with a plunging neck line that was so severe her shirt might as well of been a vest, she had terribly fake looking bleach blonde hair and caked on makeup over her orange tan.

Honestly, how could anyone think that looked good?

“What are you looking at?” she spat at me.

“Not quite sure,” I shrugged, “Either an escaped oompa loompa or a dime store Nicki Minaj impersonator.”

She scoffed, “Please, you wish you could look half as good as me.”

“Right,” I drawled sarcastically with a lift of my brows.

“Seriously,” she sneered, “You look like a wet dog.”

“Ouch,” I returned in a dead tone, clutching my heart in mockery.

 

Honestly, this girl is off her rocker.

Completely mental.

Truly mad.

And stuff like that.

 

“Why are you here? Are you even a fan?”

I held back a gag and scoffed instead, “Absolutely not. But, clearly you are.”

“Ever since the X-Factor days,” she replied in a proud, dreamy tone.

I scoffed again and rolled my eyes, “Of course.”

“Got a problem with that?”

I took a step closer, fist clenched.

“Lennon,” Paul placed a firm hand on my arm.

I looked at him, “This will only take a second.” And with a deep breath I let out something I’ve wanted every person whose ever watched UK X-Factor to know, “You can’t have the X-Factor, this is England! You made Black Sabbath, Judas Priest, Iron Maiden, Venom, Motörhead, Def Leppard, Deep Purple, Led Zeppelin, The Rolling Stones, The Who, The Beatles, The Smiths, The Cure, The Damned, The Jam, The Police, The Sex Pistols, The Clash, Peter Gabriel, Kate Bush, Jarvis Cocker, David Bowie, Queen, Pink Floyd, Radiohead, Supertramp, The Chemical Brothers, and The Prodigy! And if you’re watching the X-Factor after a résumé like that, I’m just tell you, you are a bit of a bastard!”

The girl just stared at me, mouth agape.

“A’right, let’s go,” Paul said sternly while grabbing my shoulders and guiding me away. But even without looking at him I could tell there was a smile on his face.

We began to walk away when I heard something I did not expect at all; laughter.

And the strangest part was that it was for me.

All five of the lads were watching me with grins and chuckles.

# +

Zayn

“Honestly, Lennon, I did not see that coming!” I smiled.

She gave me a crooked smile in return, “I didn’t either, really.”

“Well, whether it was expected or not,” Liam said, “It was a hell of a show!”

“She was a right bitch, anyhow,” Louis added, snapping his fingers in the air.

Lennon let out a laugh, “Glad it was appreciated.”

“Did you even take a breath when you said that?!” Niall asked bewildered, clearly proud of his sister for standing up for herself.

“Nope, I don’t think so.”

We fell into a comfortable silence, each person doing their own thing.

Looking around the van I took in my surroundings; my best mates and a girl who I’m sure will soon be in that category. There’s just something about her that I can’t put my finger on, but I’m sure it’s something wonderful.

I kept a close eye on Lennon for the entire ride back to where our tour bus was parked, awaiting us to board it; she watched the passing scenery for the entire ride and I couldn’t help but notice the glint in her eyes as she saw prominent buildings or kids running around a park.

“‘Ere we are,” Paul’s voice boomed, “File in, including you, Lennon, your thin’s are already in there, be good, don’t make the driver turn the bus around, and all that.”

We all laughed at Paul’s rules and got on the bus.

“Lennon, you’re bed is under Harry’s and next to Louis’,” Niall informed her.

“Perfect,” Harry muttered with an eye roll and an unpleasant look upon his face.

“Look, mate,” Louis sighed, swinging his arm around Harry's shoulders, “If you’re still upset over Lennon’s ‘getting laid’ comment, you need to get over it. It’s gonna be an extremely long seven months for you if you don’t.”

“I don’t see why you’ve been such a stickler these past few days. Ever since we left Niall’s flat, really,” Liam pondered.

“I haven’t been!” Harry exclaimed, face sour.

“Sure,” Lennon lilted.

He scoffed and she shot the rest of us a smile.

She has the kind of smile that says, ‘You don’t know me, and you never will.’

But I’m determined to break through that.

# +

Niall

I’m not entirely sure what’s up with Harry lately. Actually, scratch that, I have no fucking clue what his deal is. When we got into that little scuffle about Lennon things were off, but then we apologized and got it all sorted, and now, all of a sudden, when the tour is just starting, he’s reverted back to whatever the hell kind of mood you want to call this.

I don’t think it’s because of Lennon, though. When I told the lads that I wanted her to come because I was worried about her, they all seemed to understand and to be excited. I think.

“ _You_ ,” I pointed to Harry, “Are comin’ with me.”

“Wh-” he began, but stopped as I grabbed him by the collar and dragged him to the back room.

“The fuck, Niall? What do you want?”

“I want to know what the fuck yer deal is. It’s only the second day of the tour and we have at least 210 left! So forgive me if wantin’ to know why the fuck yer best mate is being a pissy little prat is so wrong!” I snapped.

Harry looked a bit taken aback at my actions. I don’t really blame him though, it’s hardly ever that I get this angry.

“Nothing, mate!” Harry returned hastily, tearing my hand from his collar.

I sighed, “Doesn’t look like nothin’. Just tell me, let me in.”

“Seriously, man, it’s nothing. Just tired and sexually frustrated,” Harry bitterly laughed with a shake of his head.

I eyed him skeptically but decided not to push him on this. “Sure thing. Wanna beer? I’m sure the rest of the lot will be up for one.”

He nodded his head appreciatively, “Yeah.”

I exited the back to return to the rest of the group, but it wasn't lost on me that Harry took a few more minutes before he decided to reappear.


	12. Forever

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Recommended Listening: Grouplove - Colours

Sixteen hours.

 _Sixteen_ fucking hours.

That’s how long I’ve been locked in a bus with FF. And I’ll let you in on a little secret; it’s no where near as entertaining as you’d think it would be. In fact, it’s pure hell. Nothing to do, no one to talk to, all you have is the window and your thoughts.

Well, that’s all I have at least.

There was no way in hell I was talking to FF for sixteen god damn hours.

It’s like I’m stuck in solitary confinement, and nothing could keep me preoccupied at this point.

As my head was resting on the window, allowing the vibrations to sink into my bones, I recalled my recent conversation with Rosie. She wasn’t too pleased with the fact that I wouldn’t be back to Mullingar for at least seven months, and I don’t blame her. You see, back in Mullingar me and Rosie have each other and that’s basically it. I mean, we had Flynn, but he up and left, and everyone else that’s left are just a bunch of prats that we only hang around to get the goods.

Our conversation moved from those twats onto our sexual frustrations; her not being able to stand anyone back home enough to sleep with, and me not even considering fooling around with FF because, let’s face it, they’re gits.

I suggested that she head over to Dublin and scope out the pubs, while Rosie, being the genius she is, suggested I tried to get a shag in at every show. I probably would have taken her up on that, but the probability of me finding a decent-looking _and_ stable guy at a FF show was slim to none. So instead we came upon the agreement that I’d have to find at least one person in every country, to make me, er, more cultured?

I guess that’s a good enough reason. At least my sexual frustrations would be put at bay.

The bus came to an abrupt stop and jerked me forward, smashing my head into the window.

I groaned in pain and rubbed my head as Niall’s face appeared in my sight.

“We’re ‘ere!” he exclaimed.

I immediately jumped up and shoved past him, down the narrow hallway, pushing the rest of FF out of my way and into the walls, and nearly broke down the door on my way out.

“ _LAND_!” I cheered as I fell on my knees and caressed the wet pavement below me, “Oh, how I’ve missed you so!”

I heard someone clear their throat behind me, “You alright there?”

I snapped my head around, “Perfectly fine.”

“It was only sixteen hours, love,” Zayn returned with his brows furrowed together.

I rolled my eyes, “Tha’s sixteen hours _too long_.”

He chuckled and held his hand out for me, I took it and silently thanked him with a nod. “At first I just thought you were really excited to be here.”

“Don’t get me wrong, I’m sure that- Where are we again?” I asked, brushing my hands off on my jeans.

“Florida.”

“Right. I’m sure that Florida is lovely, but I just couldn’t take another second on that bus,” I confessed, “I will never understand why bands don’t travel the US in geological order. It makes no sense to me.”

“Neither do I, love,” Zayn smiled.

The rest of FF filed off the bus and Louis didn’t hesitate to note my actions, “We aren’t that bad and neither was the ride. You don’t need to act like you’ve been deprived of the outside world for weeks.”

I raised a single eyebrow to him, “You _are_ that bad.”

# +

“Oh come on!” I begged, “Let’s go find a pub!”

“Lennon, the legal drinking age here is twenty-one,” Liam reprimanded me. I scoffed but replaced my grimace with a smirk as a thought came to me. “I don’t like that look,” Liam said.

I ignored him and mustered up as much innocence and pleasantness as I could, batting my eyelashes as I drawled, “Louiiiisssss?”

He hesitated for a moment and narrowed his eyes at me. “What?”

“You’re twenty-one. Mind runnin’ up to a shop and pickin’ up some stuff?”

# +

“I dunno how you managed to get Louis to get alcohol, but I’m glad you did,” Harry let out as we all sat around our new hotel suite, which was just as lavish as the previous one.

I shrugged, “Must be that Irish charm.”

“Nah,” he replied after taking a sip of his beer, “Niall’s tried it before. It’s because you’ve got boobs.”

“Oi, I resent that!”

He gave me a cheeky smirk and a shrug, “Just sayin’.”

“Harry, knock it off,” Liam interjected.

Harry put his hands up in defense and sent me a wink.

I shuddered in response.

No thanks, Styles.

No.

Thanks.

I tensed up when Harry sent me another one, obviously not understanding that my shudder was a repulsed response. I opened my mouth to tell him off, but Niall placed a hand on my arm, “Why don’t we take a walk?”

His eyes were pleading me not to start any shit; he clearly didn’t want to deal with the aftermath. I nodded in response, took the last swig of my beer, and we made our way out to the warm Florida air.

The sun was long gone and replaced by the moon, its reflection clear on the wet ground. We walked in silence for a few minutes and I couldn’t help but notice how weird it was. It had been years since we’d last done this and now it just felt off. “Mum called while we were on the bus,” Niall spoke, shoving all silence aside.

“Oh,” I returned uninterestedly, “What’d she want?”

“Jus’ checkin’ in. Wanted to know how you were doin’.”

Of course.

I rolled my eyes, “Did ya tell her the truth?”

He scratched the back of his neck awkwardly, looking at me from the corner of his eye, “I jus’ said that you were a’right. Not gettin’ into any trouble or anythin’.”

I didn’t say anything, just let him continue on, “Ya know, she suggested you try tah get a job while we’re on the road. I could talk to someone for ya, if you want?”

“Niall, what the hell am I s’pposed tah do? You know I’m not good at anythin’.”

He sighed, “Don’ say that, Len. You know yer good at things.”

“You’re right,” I returned sarcastically, “I’m good at over commenting, making a mess, reading ahead, getting too comfy, not calling, being too cold, not being in the mood, hogging the bead, and spilling drinks. Think you could get me a job doing those things?”

He chuckled, “That may be true, but there’s more on that list and ya know it.”

“Right,” I drawled, “I’m also good and drinking, doing drugs, and being a bitch.”

 

Niall

As she spoke those words I felt awful. I felt awful because I wasn’t there for her when I should’ve been, and now there’s nothing I can do to take it back.

“Lennon-”“No, Niall. It’s the truth. I don’t need your help or your sympathy. So just stop,” she spat at me.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered, averting my eyes from her and kicking a rock in my path.

She looked at me with a confused expression.

“I know you’re upset and-”

“No,” Lennon cut me off, “I’m not upset.”

“Yes you are, and that’s fine, but just here me out. Okay?” I asked.

She muttered a quiet, “Okay,” and kept her eyes on the ground as we continued to walk.

“I never know quite what to say when you’re upset, and it tears me apart that I can’t always help you. Just know that I’m always here for you, and if you ever fall, I’ll be here to catch you, and if you ever feel lonely at four in the morning, I’ll be here to talk to you. Know that I’m aware of all your pain, and all the sadness you have, and that I’m willing to help you carry it. Just know that I love you, and that it rips my heart apart to know you’re not happy all the time.”

Lennon had a sad look on her face, her mouth open just a bit as if she had something to say but didn’t know what it was. She just shook her head vigorously.

“You’re not allowed to do this now!” she managed out while stopping dead in her tracks, “You were s’pposed to be there for me before; when I really needed you!”

I stopped with her and grabbed her shoulders, desperately trying to get her to look at me. “I know. I know that, and I feel terribly about it. But I’m here now. Forever. I promise.”

She laughed bitterly, “We always seem to forget that everything is so temporary. I mean, yeah, okay, it crosses our minds once in a while and we might do something daring and out of our comfort zone, but when that moment passes it gets stored away in the back of our minds and we continue living our lives as if there are plenty of tomorrows waiting for us. We postpone feelings and words to another day, another week, another month, another year. Everything is temporary. Forever is an empty promise.”

She shook her head as she continued on, “It’s nice that you want to ‘help’ me now, but I don’t want it. I don’t want you to save me. I want you to stand by my side as I save myself.”

# +

Harry

The lads and I were mucking around and a few beers in, waiting for the Irish duo to return. They had been gone for quite some time and it had been raining for a good amount of that time too.

“Maybe we should give Niall a ring?” Liam suggested. Always the sensible one, he is.

As soon as that left his mouth we heard the room door swing open and slam shut, soon followed by another swing open and slam shut.

Lennon stomped past us, soaking wet, makeup running down her face, and mud on her boots. But as quickly as she went, she came back, grabbed a six pack and the pint of vodka we had, spun on her heel, and went back towards her room.

As she did that there were cupboard slams coming from the kitchenette; obviously Niall.

My eyes squinted in confusion as I turned to face Louis, Zayn, and Liam, who all had the same bewildered look on their faces.

“Well,” Louis began, “Something clearly didn’t go as planned.”

“Should we try talking to them?” Liam asked.

Zayn shook his head, “You know how Niall is after a fight. Just give him a bit to cool down.”

“What about Lennon?” I hesitantly asked.

“That’s a whole batch of crazy that I just don’t want to get into right now,” Louis admitted while rubbing a hand over his face.

Liam and Zayn agreed, but there was something inside of me saying that maybe I should at least try to see if she’s alright. After all, she did take quite a bit of booze with her, which will only dig her deeper into this hole she’s supposed to be trying to get out of.

I slowly got myself up off the sofa and ambled towards the room she had gone into, second guessing my actions with each step I took.

 

Man up, Styles.

What’s gonna happen?

If worst comes to worst she’ll just yell at you.

Nothing you haven’t been through before with her.

Easy.

 

I took a deep breath and briskly knocked on the door.

“Go away, Niall!” she shouted.

“Er, uh, i-it’s actually me,” I stuttered, “It’s Harry.”

I heard a bit of shuffling before the door creaked open; revealing a still soaking, upset Lennon. “What?” she angrily asked.

“Uhm, hey. Do you want to... talk?” I questioned uncertainly.

Her brows furrowed together. “Listen, that’s nice and all, but I’m kind of busy right now,” she quickly said before shutting the door.

I hastily put my foot in the way, “What do you mean ‘ _busy_ ’? You’ve got nothing going on.”

“I’m just busy, a’right?!” she snapped, trying to push my foot out of her way.

Her breath strongly smelled of alcohol and she seemed a bit fidgety. “No you aren’t,” I scoffed and shoved my way into the room.

The six pack of beer was thrown on the bed along with the pint, which was now a quarter of the way gone instead of full like minutes before. Next to the bed was her duffle bag; clothes strewn about, which they shouldn’t be since we just got here.

“Where is it?” I asked.

She raised her eyebrows, “I’ve got no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Yes you do. _Where is it_?” I sternly asked as I towered over her, hoping that our vast height difference was somewhat of an advantage for me.

“Would you get the fuck out? God, you’re almost as bad as Niall!” she venomously sneered before grabbing my wrist and trying with all of her might to pull me out of her room.

“I’m just trying to help! You don’t need to be such a bitch!”

Her tough demeanor immediately ceased and she dropped my arm as she muttered, “Just get out.”

“What?” I asked, not understanding why she wasn’t yelling anymore.

“You’re right, okay? Just get out.”

“What are you talking about?”

She rolled her eyes and slowly spoke, “You are right, I am a bitch.”

“Why the sudden change of attitude?” I eyed her suspiciously.

“Because,” she sighed and sat on the edge of her bed, “Sometimes I take a step back and realize, ‘Wow, I am a bitch.’ But I don’t want to be a bitch, so I start being something else.”

I nodded empathetically, but it didn't stop me from my initial plan. “So where is it?”

“You’re seriously still on that?”

“Yep,” I slowly returned with a smirk.

She gave me an odd look and pushed her wet hair off of her face. “Yer not gonna take anthin’ from it, are ya?”

“No,” I replied honestly, “Just want to make sure that you don’t do anything stupid.”

She laughed, “S’bit late for that.”

“You know Niall’s gonna kill you, right?” I asked, sitting on the bed.

She gave me a sly smile, “Precisely.”

“Are you trying to get sent home?”

She nodded her head, “Obviously.”

I frowned and rolled my eyes, “Go get it then.”

She pushed off of the bed and made her way into the en suite. I heard some things shifting around, but soon she emerged with her locked box. She threw it onto the bed and plopped down next to me. “What did ya wanna talk about anyway?” Lennon asked while fiddling with her fingers.

I picked the box up and curiously rifled through the contents. “We’ll get to that in a minute. What did you take?”

“Jus’ a few molly capsules,” she shrugged as if it were no big deal.

“How many is a few?”

“Three.”

“Are you sure that was a good idea?” I asked, brows pressing together.

“Yup,” she returned, popping the ‘p’.

My lips pressed together as I held back my opinion. Instead I set the box behind me and focused on Lennon. She was soaked to the bone but it didn't seem like she minded all too much. I figured it was the liquor that was keeping her mind preoccupied. “Right then. What happened with Niall?” I questioned, cutting to the chase.

“Oh,” she mumbled, “He was jus’ bein’ a stupid prat. Nothing new.”

“Seemed like there was more to it,” I alluded for her to go on.

She let out a huff and dramatically rolled her eyes before starting her explanation. “Well, at first he was tryin’ to be all nice and say that he’d be there for me, that he’d _fix_ me and shit. But I don’t want that. I don’t want him to take the credit for me being ‘fixed’. If I ever get ‘fixed’ I want it to be on my own account.”  
I nodded, waiting for her to go on.

“But I guess he didn’t understand that. I mean, he just doesn’t get that I’m somewhat okay with bein’ the way I am. So he started to get angry and started to yell at me. But, ya know me,” she drawled, “I yell right back. It just went to shit really fast after that.”

“Did he try to apologize?” I mused.

She let out a bitter laugh and locked her eyes with mine. “Would ‘sorry’ have made any difference? Does it ever? It’s just a word. One word against a thousand actions.”

As she tucked a piece of stray hair behind her ear I came to a realization: Lennon wasn’t anything like I thought she was. She’s complicated, hurt, boisterous, and a little bit of a loose cannon. She was like a buried treasure, but no one ever came to mark the spot.

She glanced up at me and gave me a small smile. Zayn was right; she does have a smile that says ‘You don’t know me, and you never will.’


	13. Just Being Honest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Recommended Listening: Oasis - Don't Look Back In Anger

Do you know what’s strange?

Speaking with Harry Styles _and_ actually getting along with him.

Don’t get me wrong, he can still be a stupid twat. But right now, in this moment, he’s, dare I say it, _pleasant_?

I’m probably more baffled than you are.

I didn’t even know that he was capable of being anything other than a giant thorn in my arse.

Then again, I am _severely_ inebriated and, you know, on some drugs.

There you have it; Harry Styles is only tolerable while highly fucked up.

Alert the press!

 

I sat at the foot of the king size bed, leaning against the footboard, taking a much needed swig of vodka. Even though I told Harry a little bit about Niall, I’m still pretty angry.

When in doubt and when in shame, intoxicate thyself to dull the pain.

Not exactly Shakespeare, but it seems appropriate enough given the circumstances.

Harry, sitting at the top of the bed, reached forward and grabbed the pint out of my hands, “Don’t you think you’ve had enough?”

“No,” I replied honestly.

“But haven’t the drugs kicked in yet?” he asked out of curiosity.

I smirked, “No, not yet. You’ll know when they do.”

He nodded his head, “What’s it like?”

“S’wonderful,” I smiled, “Have you ever been somewhere so beautiful ya couldn’t believe it?”

He scrunched up his face in thought, “I suppose I have. Why?”

“Well,” I began to explain, “When yer on things like this, s’almost as if everythin’ transforms into something overwhelmingly beautiful.”

“What’s this beautiful place for you?”

“Home,” I answered easily, “A few blocks down from our house is this forest. Words can’t even begin to explain how breathtakin’ it is. It’s almost as if it’s a school with no walls.”

Harry smiled, “Sounds wonderful.”

“It is.”

“Lennon,” Harry carefully spoke, “Why do you do it?”

I gave him a weak smile, “Well, before I actually started doin’ things like this I always thought, ‘If I could just leave my body for the night, I’d be happy.’ And when I found drugs like this, they made that wish reality. So now when I want to leave my body, I do.”

“Oh,” he replied quietly.

I didn’t know what else to say, so I swiftly took back the pint and took a drink. Harry gave me an odd look, “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you drink anything besides alcohol.”

“Hey!” I shook my finger at him, “Sometimes I drink a glass of water just to surprise my liver.”

Harry let out a bark of laughter, doubling over and clutching his sides, “Tha- that’s ri-ich, Lennon!”

# +

“No, no, no!” I shook my head, “You’ve gotta leave this song on!”

“Lennon!” Harry whined.

“Curls,” I warned.

“Fine,” Harry grumbled.

I gave him a smug smile and hopped off the bed, letting my body move whichever way it pleased. The beats of Ratatat’s Drugs thumping through my system; the music up so loud I could feel it in my fucking bones.

“So I take it that you’re well on your way up?” Harry asked with an eyebrow raised.

“You, sir,” I giggled, “Would be correct.”

He shook his head at me as I continued to dance around freely in my loose fitting jumper and leggings. “Haaaareh,” I lilted, “Dance!”

“No thanks,” he smirked, “I like the view.”

I stopped moving and scrunched up my face in disgust, “You’re sick.”

He shrugged his shoulders, “Just being honest.”

I watched as his curly hair began moving and transforming, resembling Medusa quite well, and got myself back up onto the bed.

“What are you looking at?” Harry asked.

“Your hair. It’s moving quite a bit,” I giggled.

He gave me an amused look. “Course it is,” he chuckled and ruffled my hair.

“Beer?” I asked as I swayed on the bed.

“Sure.”

I grabbed two beers and cracked them open, handing one to Harry. “Why?”

“Why what?” Harry asked after he took a sip.

“Why are you bein’ so nice to me?”

He gave me a sad smile, “You just seemed really upset. I dunno, I thought maybe you could use someone to talk to.”

“Oh,” I shrugged, lips momentarily twitching downwards, “Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it.”

We sat in silence for a while, just sipping on our beers and listening to the now quiet humming of the stereo. And for as good as I should have felt at this point (three molly capsules, quite a bit of vodka, several beers, and getting along with Harry), I still didn’t feel right. I’ll blame Niall for it this time. It seems like ever since I got shipped off to stay with him, I’ve been feeling _off_. Like I’m not good enough, or worthy, or enough of anything to even be here.

“You know- you know what Harry?” I found myself saying, “Sometimes... I wish I had another liver instead of a heart so I could just drink more and care less.”

He looked at me for a long moment with a frown before speaking. “That’s one thing I would have never expected to hear from you.”

“And why’s that?”

“I don’t know.”

# +

Niall

I threw my dirty plate into the sink and grabbed a beer out of the fridge before stomping into the common room only to be met with Liam, Zayn, and Louis lounging on the sofas. Each of them eyeing me carefully.

“Hey,” I spoke, but it came out as more of a question than a greeting.

“Everything alright, mate?” Zayn asked.

“Just peachy,” I returned facetiously. He raised his eyebrows and returned his attention back to his phone.

“Alright, that’s a blatant lie. What’s going on?” Louis asked me.

I groaned irritatedly, “Do you know how frustrating she is?!”

“No,” he returned sassily, “You’ve basically forbidden us from being anywhere near her.” Liam nodded his head in agreement and casually took a swig of his drink.

“Well, we all know that’s over with now that she’s on tour with us. Besides, it’s not like she actually listens to anything I say.”

“What happened?” Liam asked.

“She’s just so... _so aggravating_!” I shouted. “She’s not even trying to clean up her act!”

“Ni,” Liam spoke softly, “It’s only been a few weeks. I think maybe she’s just trying to get accustomed to all of this.”

“That’s not the point though! When I told her I wanted to help she completely lost it! Told me that she didn’t need me! What kind of bullshit is that?!” I yelled, arms dramatically thrown in the air. They remained silent, not even bothering to answer my rhetorical question. I rolled my eyes and dropped my arms. “Where’s Harry?” I asked, venom dripping off of my words.

Zayn smirked at me, “The other room.”

“Doing _what_ exactly?” I snapped.

“Talking to Lennon,” he replied all too casually, eyes still locked on his phone.

“ _What_?!” I roared, and stomped off to the room I suspected they would be in.

I threw open the door, fully expecting to see them doing something I’d make them both regret, but instead they were just lying there; Harry correctly and Lennon with her head at the foot of the bed. Each of them had a beer in their hand, looking at me expectantly.

“ _Really_ , Harry?” I spat, “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me! Letting her drink?!”

He sat up slightly, opening his mouth to say something, but Lennon cut him off, “Oi! It’s not his job to keep me from drinking, nor is it yours.”

I eyed her as she rolled her eyes, not even giving a thought about facing me properly. “You don’t know what you’re talking about. You’re drunk,” I sneered.

“Actually,” she spoke lazily, “I do know what I’m talking about. I’m not dumb.”

“Oh yeah?” I challenged.

She smirked, “Well you see, Niall, it’s like this... A herd of buffalo can only move as fast as the slowest buffalo. And when the herd is hunted, it is the slowest and weakest ones at the back that are killed first. This natural selection is good for the herd as a whole, because the general speed and health of the whole group keeps improving by the regular killing of the weakest members.

“In much the same way, the human brain can only operate as fast as the slowest brain cells. Now, as we know, excessive intake of alcohol kills brain cells. But naturally, it attacks the slowest and weakest brain cells first. In this way, regular consumption of beer eliminates the weaker brain cells, making the brain a faster and more efficient machine. And that, Niall, is why you always feel smarter after a few beers.”

“Oh, sod off,” I snapped as she gave me a triumphant grin and Harry chuckled behind her.

“Told ya I wasn’t dumb,” she shrugged.

I ran a hand over my face with a groan. “Just leave,” I snapped, pointing to the door.

She rolled her eyes, but hopped off the bed and walked out.

“Mate, listen,” Harry began.

“No, _you_ listen,” I interjected, “All I asked of you was to stay away from her. I get that she’s on tour with us now, so I can’t really prevent her from speaking to you lot, but that’s all that can happen. Just talking. Nothing else. Got it?”

Harry nodded and with a breathy voice let out, “Got it.”

# +

Zayn

I was chatting idly with Louis and Liam as we heard the muffled argument going on between the others in the room over. The three of us were bemused by Niall’s attitude over Lennon, although we also saw where he was coming from.

I guess I just think that he’s being a little hard on her.

 

Lennon walked into the room and plopped down on the couch next to me, letting out a groan.

“Wanna talk about it?” I asked even though I knew her answer.

She grimaced, “Not in the slightest.”

“Alright. Nice eyes, by the way,” I smirked.

“Ah, thank you,” she feigned a pretentious attitude, “They are my pride and joy.”

“What’re you on then?” I asked, turning my body to face her.

“Molly,” she shrugged, “Gonna come down soon, though. I’d go get that pint out of my room to help keep me up, but Niall’s busy bitchin’ at Harry for no reason.”

“He’s just worried about you,” Liam said.

“He’s got nothin’ to worry over,” she stated as if it were obvious.

“Weeeellll,” Louis lilted as he squinted his eyes.

“A’right, maybe he does,” she threw her hands up, “Doesn’t mean he should.”

Harry walked out into the common room, his hands pushing his hair back, “Mental. I think he’s going mental.”

“He’s always been mental,” Lennon let out easily, amusement playing on her features.

We all nodded in agreement and Liam spoke, “Where’s he at then?”

“Went to bed,” Harry returned, “Said something about needing a break from, and I quote, ‘all our shit’.”

“What?” Louis asked bewildered.

Lennon shook her head as she stood up, “No, he’s sick of my shit.”

She left the room and soon came back, vodka in one hand and half a six pack in the other, “Drink anyone?”

# +

Louis

“So, Lennon,” I slurred a bit, “What’s with you and that Flynn guy?”

She gave me an incredulous look. I gave her a big smile and she laughed and gave in. “Known him since I was seven, been mates ever since we met, get fucked up together, fuck each other, ya know.”

I laughed, “So that’s why Niall doesn’t like him.”

“S’ppose so,” Lennon said, “He’s never really been a fan of my mates.”

“You have more than one friend!?” Harry exclaimed.

She let out a hearty laugh and playfully whacked his chest. “Believe it or not, yes. I have _two_ friends, thanks.”

“You fuck the other one too?” Harry continued on.

“Er, no. Don’t flow that way, sorry,” she smiled.

We all broke out into laughter, mostly at the disappointed look on Harry’s face.

“What’s her name?” Liam asked.

“Rosie, and yes she’s fit, but no, none of you can have her number.”

After a few minutes of us all sitting in a comfortable silence Zayn spoke up, “When we first met you, you said something about not dating. What’s that all about?”

“What’s with the interrogation, jeez,” she sourly huffed, clearly avoiding the question for whatever reason.

“Just want to get to know you,” Zayn replied.

She had a small smile on her face as she childishly said, “Roses are red, violets are blue, vodka costs less than dinner for two.”

“So you’re saying,” I choked out betweens laughs, “That you don’t date anyone because you’re cheap and would rather drink?”

“Precisely,” she confirmed with one strong nod.

“Alright, I’ve got one,” I said.

“Go on then,” she spoke.

“How come there’s all this built up animosity between you and Niall? And I don’t mean this new stuff. You two have been angry at each other since before you got here. There’s got to be a reason. So spill,” I demanded, capturing the attention of everyone in the room and guiding it towards Lennon.

She gave us a sad smile and with a shrug she said, “I know why, but at the same time, I don’t know why. I mean, I know why I was angry, but Niall? I haven’t got a clue.” We all sat in silence waiting for her to go on. It seemed like she wasn’t going to as she just stared at her hands in her lap, but she gave in soon enough, “Isn’t it strange how with a combination of twenty-six letters you can steal someone’s heart and captivate their soul? Even stranger is how with a different combination of twenty-six letters you can make their eyes fill with tears and give them enough pain to last a lifetime.”

In that moment, if I didn’t know any better, I would have thought Lennon was going to cry. But instead she just looked up from her hands and observed the rest of us, though she still looked morose.

Harry moved closer to her and wrapped an arm around her shoulder, pulling her into his side tightly.

She looked up from her spot, “He never said anythin’ to you guys, did he?”

“No, love,” Zayn quietly spoke, “Sorry.”

“S’alright.”

Liam cleared his throat, “Have you ever tried talking to him about this all, whatever it is?”

“There were things I wanted to tell him,” Lennon whispered, “But I knew they would hurt him. So I buried them and let them hurt me.”

Harry leaned his cheek on top of her head and gently ran his hand up and down her arm while we all gave her a sympathetic smile. All I wanted was to take away her pain; I’m sure the other lads wanted to do the same.

“Lennon,” Harry mumbled into her hair, “You should talk to him sometime soon. Get this all sorted. You guys can’t be angry at each other any longer. You’ve got to get this sorted.”

“I know,” she whispered, “I know.”


	14. It'll Fix You Right Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Recommended Listening: The Doors - Light My Fire

I feel like I’m far away from this world. I do mean in general, I’m not really your _typical_ person, but I also mean this world of FF. It’s a strange sensation, really. I mean, at first I thought that they were all going to be pretentious douchebags like my dear brother, but they aren’t.

Not _all_ the time at least.

But what I’m really getting at here is the fact that they seemed to care about _my_ feelings and _me_ last night. And what irks me about that is the simple notion that my own brother doesn’t care enough to think of my feelings in this whole situation.

One of the cruelest things you can do to another person is pretend you care about them more than you really do, though. So I guess Niall not pretending to care is good.

I’m not really used to people caring about me. I’ve fucked up way too many times and pushed people away with each thing I’ve done wrong, so someone caring, like 4/5 of FF, is weird.

I guess after I fucked up for so long I just tried to forget; that’s when the excessive booze and drugs come in. But you can’t forget some things, no matter how much you drink, snort, or shoot into your veins. The memories stalk you forever and creep up to maul you like a rabid dog, when you least expect. Like last night, for example.

I just wish that things were different. I wish that I didn’t have to go to London at all. I wish that I wasn’t on this damn tour. I _almost_ even wish that I hadn’t started with all this stuff.

If only we could see the endless string of consequences that result from our smallest actions. But we can’t know better until knowing better is useless.

 

I shook those dejecting thoughts from my head, because, let’s face it, feelings are gross, 0 out of 10, would not recommend, no thanks. Instead, I focused my energy onto holding my jumper close to my body and lighting my cigarette as the cool Florida breeze brushed passed me, twisting my unruly waves and whipping them about my head.

The first drag always hits the spot; pushing away any nagging thoughts and calming my senses.

I heard the smooth rumble of the glass door leading to the balcony open and close, but me being me, I chose to ignore it. Rather, I took another deep drag and held it in, only exhaling when I heard the mystery person clearing their throat behind me. I swiveled my head around, squinting as my eyes crossed paths with the sun, and found myself facing none other than Curls himself.

Although, I guess I shouldn’t be calling him Curls right now since he was actually sweet and caring towards me last night.

I gave him a weak smile and turned back around to face the busy street bellow us before he broke the silence and said, “You know, those things are bad for you.”

“Really?” I questioned sarcastically, “I hadn’t heard.”

Harry stepped beside me and looked over the passing cars as he once again spoke, “Yeah, the Surgeon General says-”

“I met the Surgeon General once,” I interjected after taking another drag, “He offered me a cigarette.”

Harry gave me an amused smile before ruffling his curls and swooping them over his forehead, only making them look messier than they had before. “Ah, did you shag him too?” he asked with a cheeky grin.

With a scoff I let out, “Ya know, I don’t sleep with every living person that has a dick.”

“Could’ve fooled me.”

I rolled my eyes, “How would you even know anythin’ about my sexual history. And aren’t <>you the one that sleeps around?”

He narrowed his eyes at me, “Alright, let’s just drop it.”

I lifted my eyebrows once in recognition and shifted to the left a bit, nearing the ledge in the process. I rested my elbows on the railing, taking yet another drag from my glorious cigarette, and let my head fall between my arms. I carefully took in each and every passing car and pedestrian; wondering what their stories were and where they were headed to.

“You’re not gonna jump are you?” Harry quickly asked beside me.

I shot my head up, “What? No, of course not! I might hate being here, but not enough to kill myself!” He had a look of relief on his face and I gave him a smirk, “Besides, I’ve got drugs to do, alcohol to drink, and people to shag.”

Harry shot me a crooked smile as he leaned his elbows on the ledge as well, “It’s weird though, isn’t it?”

“What is?”

“It’s weird how in a matter of seconds you could just be a memory,” he shrugged.

“Wow, Styles,” I nudged his shoulder, “I thought Zayn was supposed to be the deep one.”

# +

“C’mon, love, get up!” Zayn cooed as he pulled on my arm.

I groaned and dug the heels of my feet deeper into the side of the couch, “I don’t wanna!”

“Uhg, why are you so difficult?!” he exclaimed as he dropped my arm.

I shrugged, “Usually just to piss people off.”

He glared at me and then looked to Liam who had an amused smile on his face, “Your turn, then.”

“Oi! That’s not fair!” I snapped as Liam neared me with a mischievous grin.

“And why is that?” Liam snickered.

“I didn’t name you Muscles for nothing!”

He let out a bark of laughter and ripped me up from the couch like I was nothing. But let’s be honest here, I basically am nothing compared to Muscles. I’ve got wet noodles for arms and my muscles are nonexistent.

Instead of setting me down like a polite gentleman would do, he dropped me right on the cold, hard tiled floor, causing my bum tingle in pain.

“Wanker,” I muttered under my breath.

“What was that?” Liam spun around to face me, an eyebrow raised in challenge.

“Oh,” I waved my hand dismissively, “Just wanted to know why I had to get up from my comfy spot on the couch is all.”

“We’ve told you a dozen times. We’ve got a show to go to.”

I rolled my eyes in an exaggerated manner, not really understanding how this had anything to do with me at all. As I was in the process of standing up and rubbing my sore bum, the rest of FF filled into the sitting area.

“Ready then?” Niall questioned the lot, though he was still angry with me and not paying me any attention.

As the others responded with affirmative responses, I groaned loudly.

“Lennon, would ya shut it?” Niall snapped.

I raised an eyebrow and crossed my arms defensively, “What’s in it for me?”

He rolled his eyes at me like he always did when we argued as kids and let out a loud huff, “We’ll stop and get some coffee.”

I hummed in contemplation and clapped my hands once. “Where from?”

“Starbucks?” he furrowed his eyebrows and responded as if were obvious.

I quickly dropped my hands and frowned. “What?”

All of FF eyed me carefully, not sure of what to make of the situation. Louis bravely took a step forward, “Is there a problem with that?”

“A problem?” I asked incredulously, “Ya want tah know why I don’t like Starbucks?”

He tentatively nodded his head while the rest of the lads took a tiny step back, probably afraid of what was about to come out of my mouth.

“Because they make shit coffee,” I spoke slowly while carefully enunciating and stressing each word. “Seriously, going to Starbucks for coffee is like going to prison for sex. I mean, you’ll get it, but it’s gonna be rough.”

The five lads remained completely still, waiting for me to continue with my rant.

“But ya know what sets me off even more? There are certain musical acts that release their albums only in Starbucks, and I just don’t think that’s appropriate.

“Did ya know that Bob Dylan had an album available only in Starbucks? _Bob Dylan_ of all people! Alanis Morissette had an album only available in Starbucks; to be honest I couldn’t give a shit. The one that set me off, though: _The Doors_. I was in a Dublin Starbucks and saw a _Doors_ album _exclusive_ to Starbucks.

“Do ya know who I’m referrin’ to, my young friend, when I say The Doors?! _Jim Morrison_! The Lizard King! The man that was arrested for indecent exposure on stage! Who died choking on his own vomit! Who was kicked off the Ed Sullivan show for singing ‘Girl we couldn’t get much higher’! And _now_ HE’S ONLY AVAILABLE IN STARBUCKS! THAT’S NOT RIGHT!

“If you’re gonna do that, go all the way and make a Morrison Moccacino where they sprinkle on acid and stir it with their cock! DO IT PROPERLY!”

All five of the lads had their jaws open and their eyes wide, unable to form anything proper for a good two minutes.

Finally Louis spoke again, “Well, no coffee for you then.”

# +

Within no time we were on the tour bus headed to the venue. I had my feet propped up on the ‘kitchen’ table as FF sat around me, smugly sipping their disgusting coffee. Obviously they had not heard what I said earlier about Starbucks and all of its faults. But to each their own... I guess.

“Oi! Get your feet off those papers!” Niall scolded me.

I rolled my eyes. “Why? S’not like,” I picked up the first paper and read the title, “‘The Gold-Digging Popstar Look-Alike’ is anythin’ important.” I watched as Louis and Zayn immediately shared a knowing and somewhat disgruntled look. “Wait a second,” I said as I hastily skimmed over the article, “Is this about me?”

“About that...” Louis said as he set his coffee down, “There may or may not be some rumors floating around that you’re not Niall’s sister or that you’re only here for his money.”

They all eyed me tentatively, probably assuming that I was about to go on some freak rant about it all. Instead I opted for, what I deemed, an obvious response, “Well, they don’t know shit and can kiss my white, Irish arse.”

Harry cracked a smile and clapped me on the back, “That’s the spirit!”

# +

Before I had the chance to do anything stupid, like mull over the articles and start to _care_ (ew) about what those idiots had to say, Paul ushered us out of the bus and into a throng of hormonal, screaming, teenage girls.

To say I was displeased with my surroundings would be a _huge_ understatement.

We were instantly swamped with shouts and questions. Things like: ‘Who is _she_?!’ ‘Harry! Harry! Have my babies!’ ‘Ohmigawd! Say something in your sexy accent!’ you know, shit like that.

I grimaced and glowered at each and every one of the girls as I swiftly walked passed them and towards the big, heavy, metal, double doors that were going to lead me to a haven from these wretched beasts the boys called ‘fans’. I was nearly to the door when one shout in particular, “Ew! You gold-digging slut! Stay away from _my_ Niall!” stopped me dead in my tracks.

I swiftly spun on my heel and marched up to her, getting my face right in hers, “Want to say that again?!”

The people around her went silent and froze. Even FF and Paul; though I’m sure they had no clue what was going on.

The girl looked a bit taken aback at first, but quickly tried to collect her confidence as she stuttered, “You’re a gold-digger. You’re only around the boys for their money!”

I laughed. I let out the most gut wrenchingly bitter laugh that anyone could manage. “You,” I said sternly while jabbing my finger at her, “Have no idea what yer talkin’ about. You dunno me. You dunno my situation. You don’t know shit.” I saw her gulp as I paused to take a deep breath and began to shout, “And as for the rest of ya! I have never, nor will I ever, taken or received a single penny from any of these lads! So I suggest you all keep yer noses out of my business!”

No one made a movement or a sound. I swear I could’ve heard a pin drop in this mob of a hundred or so people. And because of that, I smirked and made my way into the building without a single regret.

# +

Remind me to kill Niall for dragging me along on this stupid fucking tour.

Seriously.

Don’t let me forget.

I’ve been sitting on some old, broken couch backstage for about an hour as the boys ran around like chickens with their heads cut off and finally onto the stage. In that hour I haven’t done much of anything. Actually, the only thing I _have_ done is text Rosie, trying to pump her up and boost her confidence enough to go talk to some fit lad that’s on the other side of the bar from her. I suspect that I did my job properly because she hasn’t texted me in twenty minutes.

So there you have it; I can help get my best mate laid from halfway across the world, but I can’t even manage to find one person I’d even consider shagging.

Fuck!

I slyly pulled my flask that was filled to the brim with whiskey out of my bag and chugged a good amount of it before shoving my earbuds in and switching on some good ole Passion Pit. Though I could hardly hear over Fatuous Five when my iPod was on full blast, the muffled sounds of my music was much better than only listening to them. So that’s what I did. I continuously filled my ears will wonderful music and my stomach with wonderful booze. Well, until I was so rudely interrupted, that is.

I whirled my head around to my right where I was tapped on the shoulder and was met with a well fit lad standing in front of me. “Yes?” I questioned as I pulled an earbud out.

“Care if I take a seat?” he politely asked.

“Oh, uh, no. Go ahead,” I returned and focused my attention back to my iPod.

“Not a fan then?” he asked.

“Hmm? Oh, no,” I shook my head, “Not at all.”

He ran a hand through his shaggy blonde hair, his blue eyes squinting as he laughed, “Then, if you don’t mind me asking, why are you here?”

“Ah, long story short, one of those twats is my brother,” I replied as I pointed towards the stage.

He nodded his head, “Got it...”

“Lennon.”

“Lennon,” he repeated with a smile, “I’m Craig.”

“Pleasure,” I said with a lift of my brows before I took another sip from my flask. “Why are you here? You don’t seem the type to like One Direction.”

“Oh,” he laughed, “I work here. Sound guy and whatnot.” I smiled in return and took yet another swig of whiskey. A moment passed before he spoke again, “So where are you from?”

“Ireland.”

“Ireland, huh? Land of the Irish,” he quipped with a big, doofy, yet sexy, grin on his face.

I let out a loud laugh, “That is where Irish people come from.”

“Hey,” he let out in a loud whisper, his minty breath fanning over my neck, “Why don’t we go somewhere a bit more quiet?”

I nodded my head and grabbed his hand, letting him lead me to wherever the fuck he wanted. All I knew was that tonight would rid me of my weeklong dry spell, and that I was thankful for.

We reached an unmarked door that he quickly opened and yanked me in behind him by my hand. “You were right,” I started, already sick of the silence that would soon awkwardly prolong, “S’much quieter in ‘ere.”

He gave me a smirk as he stepped closer to me, leaving only a foot between us, “Has anyone ever told you how sexy your accent is?”

“Well, I’ve only ever been in Ireland, where this wouldn’t really be considered an accent, and London with those twats. So no, I have never heard that,” I answered as I took a small step towards him.

All of the intelligent thoughts that could have been forming in that room were immediately dismissed and replaced with sexual anxieties as the gap between us diminished to mere inches.

“Well,” he mumbled as he pushed a stray strand of hair behind my ear, “It is.”

And that was it. That’s all it took for me to completely lose all of my patience and common sense. I pulled him close to me by his blue flannel and crashed his lips onto mine, and he didn’t waste a second by hesitating. Our lips meshed together, our kisses hungry and passionate. He quickly parted his mouth and dragged his tongue along my bottom lip, to which I immediately obliged, because I’m extremely horny and not an idiot.

Sue me, a’right?

I’m sure that minutes passed before I broke away for air, trying to regain my composed breathing as he trailed kisses down my jaw line and neck. He only stopped when he reached the spot above my collarbone and I let out a soft moan. I could feel him smirk against my skin as he nipped and sucked at that spot, only causing my moans to grow and my insides to tingle in pleasure.

As Craig continued to trail back up to my mouth his hand slipped under my jumper, rubbing small circles into my hip bone, which only lead to another involuntary moan.

“Lennon!” I heard a muffled, distant voice through the door.

Craig pulled back, “That’s not your boyfriend is it?”

I let out a small laugh and slapped his arm playfully while saying, “No! Just ignore it,” before I reattached my lips to his. His hands quickly returned to their place on my hips and he jerked me into his body, which, might I add, is _very_ toned and _very_ muscular.

“Lennon!” came through the walls again, but this time sounded closer.

As Craig began to pull back again I pulled him closer and mumbled, “Ignore it,” against his lips.

Unfortunately, he should have ignored me because the next thing I knew Harry himself waltzed into the room with a, “There you a-”

I reluctantly pulled away for what felt like the millionth time and gave Harry a cold glare, “What?”

“I was sent to find you, but it seems as if you’re busy,” he returned harshly from the doorway.

“Yeah, I am. So if you don’t mind leaving...”

He turned around to leave but quickly faced me again. “On second thought, you,” Harry pointed to Craig, “Out. I need to speak to her.”

“Harry,” I sneered.

“I mean it. Out.”

Craig backed away slowly and gave me a dull “See you around,” before heading out the door.

I huffed and leaned against the wall behind me, “What the fuck, Curls?!”

Harry shut the door and neared me, laughing as he said, “I just saved you from doing something stupid. Quit being a bitch.”

“First of all, I wasn’t gonna regret that. Second of all, I’m not bein’ a bitch, you’re just bein’ a twat!” I shouted.

Harry stopped directly in front of me, placed both of his hands on either side of my head, and leaned closely to me to whisper, “Just have a wank, it’ll fix you right up.”

I let out a loud frustrated groan and pushed him backwards by his shoulders, “A wank isn’t gonna do anythin’ now! Not when I’m already ready!”

He gave me a cheeky grin and I knew what he was going to say before he even opened his mouth, “You know, I could give you a hand with that.”

“Fuck off, Harry,” I retorted with two middle fingers.

# +

Do you know what I hate more than anything?

Hypocrites.

Do you know who is the worst hypocrite of them all?

Harry Styles.

Why, you may ask? Easy. He’s currently chatting up some bottle-blonde, orange skinned, cake-faced, tramp. Her tits are practically pushed up to her neck and her dress is basically a centimeter lower that her crotch. It wouldn’t even be that bad if he was just talking to her, but _no_ , he’s flirting with her, being cheeky with her, touching her.

AND I COULDN’T EVEN SHAG SOME CUTE BOY FROM THE VENUE!

OH, THE HUMANITY!

I was fuming at this point and completely ignoring the chatter of the other lads as we sat in some dingy bar booth. I didn’t even question how we got served, all I knew was that I wanted a strong drink and a shag.

“You should probably go easy on that,” Niall spoke as he gestured towards my cluster of empty glasses.

I furrowed my eyebrows at him, “I’m sorry, if you wanted me to quit drinking or even go easy on it, why the fuck did you bring me to a bar?”

He sat there with a dumbstruck look on his face before he shook his head and muttered, "Right bitch you are.”

I scoffed, grabbed the drink I had been working on, and made my way over to the devil himself. The orange girl glared at me as I stepped between them and stared up at Harry for quite some time before he turned his attention to me, “What?”

“Oh, forgive me for interrupting,” I spoke sweetly while batting my eyelashes, “But you’re boyfriend has been looking for you. Said something about wanting to go home with you to shag your brains out.”

He squinted his eyes in frustration while his knuckles turned white around the beer bottle he was holding, “What are you talking about?”

“Lou,” I continued in that sickeningly sweet voice, “He said he wanted you guys to leave so you could shag.”

The girl behind me shifted uncomfortably in her heels she was struggling to walk in. “What does she mean _boyfriend_?”

Harry opened his mouth to recover from the situation, but there was no way I was letting him shag anyone after the stunt he pulled, so I answered for him. “Boyfriend, ya know? Life partner? Better half? They’ve been together for a while and they’re too cute if you ask me.” I reached up to ruffle Harry’s hair and pinch his cheeks, “I can’t wait to see them married! It should be soon, shouldn’t it, Harry?”

The girl eyed us over as if she was waiting for Ashton Kutcher to pop out from behind the bar and tell her that she’s being Punk’d, but when we made no movements and Ashton was nowhere to be seen, she turned away and mumbled something along the lines of, “Why are the cute ones always gay?”

When she was out of earshot I doubled over in laughter, clutching my stomach as I gasped for air. But when I looked over to Harry, he didn’t look the slightest bit amused.

“What was that for?” he snapped.

I gave him a shit-eating grin. “That? That was payback.”

“But she was totally going to sleep with me!” he whined as his arms flung about in the air.

I shrugged before I put my left hand on his shoulders to balance myself on my tiptoes and leaned in closely to his ear to whisper, “Just have a wank, it’ll fix you right up.”


	15. We Are Not Friends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Recommended Listening: The Killers - Andy, You're A Star

Harry

 

Do you know what sucks?

Mornings.

Do you know what sucks more than mornings?

Mornings where you wake up alone with a mild hangover when you could’ve woken up to some fit bird in bed with you.

And this was one of those mornings. I fully blame Lennon.

I know she was pissed at me for scaring that guy off, but he seemed like a skeeze. That girl I was chatting up seemed nice once you got past her, you know... blatant tactics.

But that’s very beside the point. All that matters is that I didn’t get laid.

 

I crawled out of bed and slipped on a pair of sweatpants that had been carelessly thrown on the floor before checking the time (7 a.m., good god), and ambling into the kitchen. Instead of being met with silence and an empty room, I found Lennon in nothing but a loose jumper and small undergarments swaying to some song playing softly on the radio and munching on some toast.

I tried not to stare, I _really_ did. I promise. But I mean, come on, it’s hard not to look at anything else when a fit girl is right in front of me half naked.

She swung her hips to the beat as the kettle on the stove went off, causing her to turn around and face my direction.

Her movements stopped and the slight smile on her face disappeared. “Hey,” she grumbled.

I gave her a tightlipped smile, “Morning.”

Instead of her giving me the cold shoulder, as I had suspected she would, she rolled her eyes and quietly asked, “Tea and toast?”

“Please.”

After a few minutes of awkward silence, Lennon placed my breakfast in front of me and quickly quipped, “Have a good time with your hand last night?”

I groaned and dropped the toast from my hand. “Wonderful, thanks for asking,” I spoke through gritted teeth, “How about you?”

“Just lovely,” she returned with a sarcastic lift of her eyebrows.

An awkward beat passed.

Hell, it was more like fifteen awkward beats. So I decisively changed the subject, “Why are you up so early? You’re never up before noon. And aren’t you hungover?”

Lennon shrugged as she steeped her tea, “Dunno. Not hungover anyways.” 

“You aren’t hungover?” I asked while squinting my eyes in disbelief.

“No. I told you before, I never get hangovers. Whiskey in baby bottles. Come on, keep up!” She spoke exasperatedly.

I threw my hands up in defense, “Right, right, sorry.”

She opened her mouth to say something, but her phone began ringing and she fished it out of her jumper pocket, turning around to look out the nearby window.

I ignored her conversation and took this opportunity to have another look at her bum. Not that that’s weird or anything, okay? Forgive me for being a male with needs. But as her conversation took a turn I snapped out of my reverie and focused my attention on her words.

“So did ya do it?”

A quiet and muffled voice spoke on the other end, though I couldn’t make out what it was saying.

“Was he any good?”

Well, this has certainly entrapped my attention.

“Well, fuck. Doesn’t that jus’ make me feel wonderful?” she sarcastically spoke into the phone. “No. Not yet, anyway. I was almost there last night, but some fuckwit rudely interrupted,” came out of her mouth as she quickly shot me a glare over her shoulder.

Another stifled response came from the other line before she gave a quick remark, “Of course, I’ll let ya know when all this changes.”

My attention returned back to my thoughts, racking my brain as to what she was talking about. But alas, my brain was seemingly empty. Lennon cleared her throat and I hastily looked up to meet her gaze. “What?” I asked through a mouthful of toast.

“Ya looked like you were gonna pop a blood vessel trying to think so hard,” she smirked and ran a hand through her messy waves.

Rather than snapping at her ludicrous comment, I ignored it and asked, “What were you talking about?”

“Oh,” she began, but paused to take a sip of her tea, “Just talkin’ to Rosie about this little... plan, I guess you could say.”

“Care to share the details?” I pressed.

She let out a huff as she set down her mug and straightened out her wrinkly jumper, “It’s really nothing. I’ve just been helping her find someone to shag, and in return she challenged me to find at least one person in every country to shag. S’dumb really.”

“Oh,” I curtly replied.

“Yeah, and I would’ve gotten America outta the way if you hadn’t barged in and made an arse of yourself.”

I waved her comment away with my hand. “How do you even expect to do that? It’s not like there are many guys hanging around One Direction events.”

“Exactly!” she cried, throwing her hands in the air, “That’s why I was so surprised to find Craig, and then ya had to go and be yer usual Dickhead Curls self and ruin it!”

I let out a low chuckle and stood up from my spot on the kitchen stool, making my way over to the sink. “That idea is mental, by the way.”

Lennon gave me a frustrated groan and tugged on the ends of her blonde hair, “You don’t need to tell me that. I already know. But, I’ve got needs too, ya know?”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. You don’t need to tell me about needs, Lennon. I’ve got plenty of ‘em.”

“Please,” she rolled her eyes, “You’ve got thousands of girls throwing themselves at you everyday. You could take your pick, make ‘em yer girlfriend, and they’d be willin’ to fuck you all the time. I, on the other hand, actually have to make an effort.”

“It’s not that simple-”

“Oh, God. Please don’t start with that!”

“Sorry,” I muttered, regretting my choice of words. “It’s just that management isn’t too keen on us having girlfriends. They said something about it making the fans argue, or some bullshit. But they also don’t like it when we go and find someone to shag. I mean, what the hell, right?! I’ve got needs! I’m in a band for fuck’s sake! Doesn’t being in a band kind of give me a little leeway when it comes to sexual endeavors?”

Lennon let out a bark of laughter, “You’re in a bloody _boy band_. It’s not like you’re Keith Richards or Angus Young!”

“Details!” I cried out.

She chuckled, “Oh, the woes of being a famous popstar.”

As she began to walk out of the kitchen I quickly followed her, grabbed her wrist, and spun her around. There was a grin imprinted on my face as a brilliant idea came to me.

“I don’t like that look...” Lennon tentatively spoke.

“I’ve got an idea.”

She took a sharp and deep breath and squeezed her eyes shut as she said, “Let’s here it, then.”

“So here’s how I see it,” I began quickly before she had the chance to change her mind, “I’m fit, you’re fit, we don’t want to have to be burdened with finding people to shag-”

“Oh, no, no!” She cut me off, “I don’t like where this is going.”

“Just here me out!” I begged. She took another deep breath and remained completely still, taking that as my cue to continue I spoke again. “What if- and I’m just saying this hypothetically- we,” I motioned between us, “Had some sort of arrangement. Kind of like... friends with _benefits_?”

She ripped her wrist from my grasp. “We’re not even friends!”  
“But think about it! It would be so easy!”

She ran both of her hands over her eyes and pushed the hair off of her face, “This has trouble written all over it...”

“But?” I questioned.

She rolled her eyes and threw her head back. A few moments later she looked at me again. “Maybe. And when I say maybe, it really means no and that I’ll only consider it if things get dire and I’m fucked up. Okay?”

“Okay.”

# +

Lennon

Several days have passed since Harry suggested that little proposition. And by little, I mean huge. Like, how the fuck am I supposed to just ignore that shit? I don’t even know how that crossed his mind, not that I really want to know, mind you. It’s really just beneficial to him.

It’s just puzzling, though. Why the fuck would he even consider it? He’s got hundreds of thousands of girls dropping at his feet to praise him, and then he gets all serious about this idea? I don’t fucking get it.

Since Florida we’ve been to Texas, Georgia, and Kansas. Nothing special has happened, just the usual: random signings, concerts, and bar and club hopping. On the plus side, I’ve gotten a few good snogs in and shoved Curls to the deepest corner of my mind, essentially pretending that he never said what he said. But, on the negative side, each time I actually found some fit guy at the bar and got said ‘snogs’ in, I’d always be interrupted- generally by Curls. I swear, that fuckhead is only out to make me miserable.

Fancy, Fucker, Muscles, and Mysterious have all remained clueless to the whole situation, thank God. And none of them have mentioned our little chat from back in Florida when I basically spilled out all these feelings that I never wanted to say (because it makes them that much more real).

I also believe that they haven’t brought it up to Fucker (Praise Jesus!). Why do I think this? He’s still been ignoring me. A _week_ has passed (not even kidding) and he hasn’t said a word to me. Not that I mind, really. Though, it has been a bit awkward. Especially now, sitting on the tour bus, right next to him, while everyone else is off doing whatever it is teenage boys do (ew, let’s not think about that).

I toyed idly with a loose thread on my top as I tried to make it as unobvious as possible that I was trying to ignore Niall and his presence. But, you know, that’s kind of hard to do when he’s sitting less that a foot away from me and eating rather loudly. That kid has no manners, I’m telling you.

“Would you, oh, I don’t know, chew a little more quietly!” I snapped, finally fed up with his unkosher eating habits.

“Why?” he sneered, “Is it _bothering_ you?”

“Yeah, it fucking is!”

“Too bad,” he replied dryly, returning his attention back to whatever the fuck he was eating. I honestly can’t even tell you what it is; it doesn’t look like anything anyone should be eating. But, that’s Niall for you- eating anything and everything.

“Ugh!” I groaned loudly, “You’re repulsive.”

I got up and began making my way to my bunk, ‘cause when things get shitty all you can do is nod off and let the world sod off. But before I could actually exit the ‘room’ completely, Niall spoke again, “Wait! Lennon!”

I rolled my head on my shoulders and begrudgingly turned back to face the piece of work that was my brother, “What?”

“Er,” he shifted in his seat and mumbled, “Sorry.” I gave him a bewildered look and crossed my arms over my chest. He pursed his lips and began again, “Sorry for, ya know, everythin’. Bein’ mad at you and stuff over what was said back in Florida. I know I’ve been actin’ childish, but I guess I just thought that I could _actually_ help get you back on track, like mum and dad wanted.”

I sighed and plopped down next to him on the couch, “S’a’right, I guess. I know that you just want to help, but I... I feel like I need to do this on my own, okay? I’m not a damsel in distress, Niall, I don’t need saving. I can get past this on my own.”

He tentatively nodded his head. “I understand. Jus’ don’t forget that I’m here for you know matter what. That’s what big brothers are for, right?” He made a silly face at me and nudged my shoulder with his, clearly trying to get on my good side again.

“I know, Niall, I know,” I said, nudging his shoulder back before I stood up. “Uhm, thank you. And I know this might be a bad time to bring this up,” I slowly spoke, “But, are ya ever gonna tell me the story behind why it’s not that simple? Why everything happened the way it did?”

He chewed on his bottom lip as he thought it over. “I, uh, I just think that _now_ isn’t the best time, ya know? We’ll go get a pint soon and talk it over, a’right?”

I nodded my head and leaned down, giving him a quick, tight hug and a peck on the cheek, “Sure thing.”

# +

“LENNON!” was shouted right into my ear as the curtain to bunk was swung open.

I let out some unintelligible words and curses I pulled the blanket over my head and buried my face further into my pillow.

“What?” the voice asked.

I lifted my head a bit and repeated myself, “For fuck’s sake, let me sleep in peace!” and dropped my head face first back into my pillow.

Before I could even register what was happening, my pillow and blanket were ripped from me and this cruel being grabbed my arm and pulled me off the bed, causing me to land on top of the monster with an ‘oof’.

Opening my eyes I realized it was, unfortunately, Curls who had woken me up. I slapped him upside the head as I hissed, “You git! What the fuck is your problem?!”

He shrugged his shoulders innocently while rubbing his head. “I have a question for you?”

“And it couldn’t wait _why_?” I snapped.

He made an uncertain noise as I stood up, brushed myself off, and straightened out my hair. “God, you’re an idiot,” I shook my head.

“Hey!”

“Just bein’ honest!”

“Just- just come here,” he shout whispered and pulled me into the back room. He dropped onto the pile of blankets and pillows that were on the floor, motioning for me to do the same.

“What is it?” I asked impatiently as I sat down with a good amount of space between us. All I wanted to do was go back to sleep. Let me repeat to you my mantra: Nod off and let the world sod off. Simple and magnificent, isn’t it?

“Have you thought about what I said to you last week?”

I grimaced, “No, why?”

He rolled his eyes, “‘Cause now would be a good time for it to go into effect.”

“I told ya,” I spoke slowly so he could comprehend what I was saying, “I’d only comply to it if it was dire-”“But it is!” he insisted.

“No, not for me-”

“But you haven’t gotten any, as far as I know, since we left for the tour! Aren’t you the least bit sick of waiting?”

“Yes, but-”

“But what? I think this friends with benefits thing could work!”

“That’s just the thing, though! We. Are. Not. Friends!” I deadpanned.

“Oh, come on, yes we are!” he whined.

“No, no we are not. I don’t know anythin’ about you and you don’t know anythin’ about me. We. Are. Not. Friends.”

He groaned and ran his hands down his face, hastily saying, “Let’s be friends then. Tell me things about yourself.”

I made a noise of disgust, “I don’t do the whole friends thing.”

All of the emotion on Harry’s face dropped. He was blank and didn’t move for a good 30 seconds before he whispered, “Are. You. Serious?”

“Yep,” I smirked, popping the ‘p’. To be honest, I don’t mind having mates and stuff, but this whole thing with him was weird. So maybe, just maybe, he’d drop it if I gave him a hard time.

“No. No, no, no,” he shook his head, “We’re going to be friends. Now, tell me things about yourself.”

I groaned at the fact that he wasn’t letting up. This was not how things were supposed to go. At all. So, thinking on my feet, I decided to tell him stupid trivial things that wouldn’t really help build a friendship. That way, when he tried to pull whatever, I could explain all the reasons we weren’t friends. To be honest, I’m not sure why I was so insistent on the whole friend thing, and I’m not sure why he believed it. I mean, it’s not like I’ve ever had to be friends with anyone before shagging them. It just wasn’t a part of the criteria I had. So, back to the trivial information... “I can’t fall asleep without listening to music,” I stated simply.

“That’s what you base friendship off of?” Harry asked me in bewilderment. “Aren’t friends, oh, I don’t know, supposed to know intimate details about each other? Actually share important things?” The way he said this was surprising to me; it was almost as if he was truly genuine about the whole ‘friends’ thing.

I was frozen in place as he said this, though. I was not expecting Harry to actually want to know _things_ about me. But as I sat there with my mouth opening and closing repeatedly, trying to form any sort of words, I hatched another brilliant plan. Okay, maybe brilliant isn’t the word I should be using, but you get what I mean. Instead of telling him stupid, unimportant things, I’d tell him various things that would definitely get him out of the mood.

With a deep breath, I began my ramble that would hopefully make him realize what he was getting himself into. “I have a lot of spare time, but I get nothin’ accomplished. I complain about the way t’ings are, but do nothin’ to change it. Sometimes I say I crave love, but I turn it away when offered. I’m a walkin’ hypocrisy and I don’t know if I’ll ever just be happy with what I’ve got. I’m too goddamned selfish. I think too hard and overanalyze everything, and as a result, I create these problems in my head that don’t even exist. I turned out to be a horrible person and I have no one to blame but myself.”

Harry sat there with his brows furrowed as he pursed his lips, probably trying to comprehend what I just quickly spit at him. He took in a sharp breath, exhaled, and said, “I don’t get you.”

I gave him a crooked half smile, “I don’t get me either.”

“Maybe,” he mused, “Maybe you’re too hard on yourself.”

I shrugged and waved away his comment. He ruffled his hair and I watched as his thin grey t-shirt rose up and clung to his defined muscles. But, as soon as I realized what I was doing, I looked away and mentally scolded myself for being such a daft bint. “Do you think you’ll end up where you started?” I quickly asked, riding myself of those ridiculous thoughts.

“What do ya mean?” Harry asked me.

I chewed on this inside of my cheek as I contemplated what I was really getting at. “Do you ever think that once all the good in your life is over that you’ll jus’ end up where you started? Unhappy and fucked up?”

“Are we talking about me or you here?” he asked.

“Just spitballing,” I shrugged. “But do you? And then you’ll just want to get away from everything as you look back on your life in disgust?”

Harry shrugged his shoulders uncertainly. “I guess that I sometimes wonder what it’ll be like after this is all over. But what about you? You’re always talking about escaping, aren’t you? Always thinking about it. Always dreaming about it.” I bit down on my lip and didn’t answer him. He let out a sigh, saying, “You know, once you get your life to where you want it, it is possible for it to stay that way. Good things don’t always end.” I nodded my head in understanding and flopped back on the pillows and blankets, keeping my eyes on the ceiling. “Lennon,” Harry gently began, “Your life is the sum of your present moments, so if you’re missing lots of them, you may actually miss much of your life.”

I knew exactly what he was getting at without him actually saying it. And it kind of killed me to know that he thought I was wasting most of my life by living it the way I was living it. It’s funny, though, how I was wasting my life _and_ making it considerably shorter with all my actions. Even funnier is the fact that Harry almost seems as if he gives two shits about it. About _me_.

“A word to the wise,” I said before quickly tacking on, “And also to you... Don’t live life like I do.”

He smirked at my quick little jab to him, “And how do you live?”

“Stupidly,” I returned easily. He let out a chuckle and laid down next to me. I turned on my side to face him so he would take what I say in a pensive way. “No, seriously! Don’t be stupid like me. Don’t live with the ‘Personal Fable’ notion. Don’t live angrily.”

Harry slowly blinked and inquired, “Angrily?”

“Yeah. Anger will help you survive for a while, but then it’ll eat you alive.”

We laid in silence for a few minutes, not breaking eye contact, and not daring to move. But Harry seemed to be getting restless as he broke eye contact and his eyes flicked around, seemingly towards my lips and then back up to my eyes. “You know,” he murmured, “You’re a lot different than I first expected you to be.”

# +

Niall

Do you know what’s frustrating? Telling one of your best mates to stay away from your sister and then he flagrantly ignores your request. Kind of like right now. It wasn’t even a week ago that I specifically told Harry not to try anything with Lennon, and now here they are; in the back room, by themselves, closely laying under a large duvet, sleeping while sharing Lennon’s headphones. It’s just completely disrespectful and it makes me sick.

“Get up!” I yelled at them and simultaneously ripping the duvet from their bodies. Thank my lucky stars they were still clothed, otherwise I would have to kick someone’s face in. And by someone, I mean Harry.

Harry’s eyes immediately flicked open and he quickly sat up and shook his head while he held his hands up, saying, “Mate, this isn’t what it looks like. I swear to you.”

I rolled my eyes and kept my voice low as I spat, “I know. Just don’t let it happen again.” He nodded and briskly exited the room, allowing me to direct my attention back to Lennon, nudge her legs with my feet, and coo, “Lennon, get up!”

“Not now, Niall,” she mumbled before turning on her side.

“But we’re here and we’re getting food,” I spoke as kindly as possible in this situation.

Her eyes flashed open. “I’m up! I’m up!” she shouted as she stumbled for the door, “Where’s the food?!”

I rolled my eyes at her antics, “Kitchen. But I need to talk to you for a minute.”

The smile on her face immediately dropped and was replaced with a scowl, “What is it? It better be good if it’s keeping me from food.”

“What was going on back here?” I cut to the chase.

“W-what?! Nothing, Niall! We were talking. What, is that not allowed?” she sneered as she cocked her head to the left and crossed her arms.

I sucked in my upper lip and let out a sigh, “No, it’s allowed. But that’s it, a’right. I don’t want to find out that anything is going on between you two.”

“Believe me,” she said with her eyebrows raised, “There is nothing, and will be nothing, going on between us.”


	16. On My Side

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Recommended Listening: Rizzle Kicks - Traveller's Chant

I just sat through the most antagonizing meal of my life.

Honestly.

I had really hoped it wouldn’t be awkward, but it was. _Of course_.

Everyone silently ate their pizza, and the only communication I noticed were the intense glares between Niall and Harry. Every once in awhile their eyes would flick over to me and I would raise an eyebrow and give them a puzzled look in response. Whatever their silent conversation was about obviously had a little bit to do with me, but I didn’t want to think about why.

So I didn’t. I ate in ignorant bliss and tuned everyone out. Well, that is until we had to go check into the hotel. It’s kind of hard to ignore five rowdy boys running through a fancy hotel lobby.

 

As we walked towards the desk I pulled Niall to my side and quickly whispered, “Do ya think I could get my own room this time?”

He furrowed his eyebrows and shook his head, “Why would I agree to that, Len? That just doesn’t sound like a good idea.”

I sucked in a sharp breath and mustered as much sweetness as possible, “Please, Ni? I haven’t had any time alone since I was in Mullingar. Just for this city? Please?”

Niall sighed and ran his left hand down his face. “Well,” he slowly began, “I guess. I’ll let Paul know.” I instantly began to wriggle in triumph and opened my mouth to thank him, but he cut me off. “ _But_ , your room will be between ours and Paul’s. Okay?”

I nodded my head furiously, “Okay. Thank you so much, Ni!” After my little outburst I pulled him into a tight hug and pecked him on the cheek.

“Oi! Easy does it! It’s just a room, a’right? No need to get so worked up,” he joked with a grin on his face.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” I waved his comment away, “Where are we anyway?”

“Denver.”

“Colorado?” I immediately asked.

He gave me a look of bewilderment, “Yeah? Where else is there a Denver?”

“Actually,” I drawled, “There are twenty-two cities named Denver in the U.S.”

“How do ya- You know what?” Niall shook his head, “Doesn’t even matter. I’ll go talk to Paul now.”

As soon as he walked away a small, mischievous grin spread across my face. Now, just so you know, I was in no way aware that we were in Colorado. I swear to you. Also, asking for my own room was simply because I was sick of being around those boys 24/7.

But can you _really_ blame me?

I didn’t think so.

 

It was purely a coincidence that I got my own room while we were staying in Colorado- a state where certain things are legal.

I’d like to think that the world is finally on my side.

# +

“What do you _mean_ Toy Story isn’t your favorite Disney movie?”

“Woah, buddy,” I threw my hands up in defence, “Just because I like Aristocats the most doesn’t mean I’m some sort of felon.”

Liam scoffed while rolling his eyes, “I think it does.” I shook my head in disbelief at his antics and made my way over to the fridge that was in their suite. “But honestly,” Liam continued as he followed me, “How do you prefer cats _over_ talking toys?!”

“I dunno,” I shrugged, “I just do. And I never once said I didn’t like Toy Story, a’right? It’s a fine film.”

Liam gave me an odd look, shook his head once again, and exited the kitchen. I sighed in relief to have a moment alone before I took a sip of my water. You see, even though I have my own room, Niall doesn’t want me to be alone in there during the day. So, I’m forced to sit around with these lads and be scrutinized over my film taste.

“What was Liam harping on you for?” Zayn asked as he entered the kitchen and poured himself some water.

“Christ, it was because I like The Aristocats over Toy Story! I thought he was about to kill me or something.”

He chuckled as I waved my hands about, “That’s Li for ya.”

There was a few moments of silence between us before I couldn’t stand it anymore, “So... What are we doing today?”

“Well, we’ve got a soundcheck this evening. So I suppose just that.”

“So, show tomorrow then?”

“Yup,” he returned, popping the ‘p’. 

“Hmm,” I mused, “I think I’m gonna take a nap. Tell Niall for me if he asks?”

“Yeah, course,” he smiled while scratching his forearm, “See ya later.”

# +

Hey, guess what I just did.

 

If you said ‘lied’, you guessed correctly!

But, I mean, it’s not like that was a hard one to figure out.

So, rather than napping (though that does sound glorious), I’m heading out to the streets of Denver. No- not like that. I’m simply searching for a shop. One particular shop that will definitely be the highlight of this whole tour, I can guarantee that.

I inhaled the crisp spring air around me as I tromped through a deep mud puddle on the sidewalk. There aren’t too many people out walking around, but I do suppose that since it is a Wednesday afternoon there is a bit of an explanation.

One thing that is nice about staying in a luxurious hotel with the lads is that it’s right in the middle of the city; a prime spot for shopping centres. Which is where I’ve found myself at right now.

I paused and turned to face the long strip mall, my eyes trailing up and down the length of the building in search of that one building that was bound to be there.

And there it was.

A small shop in the corner of the strip with a neon sign in the window that read _Menna’s Joint_.

A grin spread across my face as I hastily neared the building and swung the door open. I was straightaway met with glass cases filled with various types of the product and a woman in what seemed to be her late twenties behind the counter.

She looked up from the magazine she was reading with a slight smile on her face, “Hey, I’m Menna. What can I do for you today?” Her dark brown hair fell past her shoulders in soft tousles as she spoke and revealed her multiple eyebrow piercings as it swayed to the side.

“Uhm, hi,” I began, unsure of how to go about it all since we don’t have shops like this in Mullingar. “Just wanted to pick up an eighter,” I spoke with a bit more confidence as I tugged the sleeves of my jumper down over my hands.

“Yeah, of course!” Menna spoke enthusiastically. “What’d you want? Regs? Chron?”

“How much for chronic?” I inquired. She glided down the aisle way and slid open a glass case before turning back to me with a baggie in her hand.

“Just twenty. Hey, where are you from?”

“Small town in Ireland,” I answered politely. I was actually really thankful that she was so kind and friendly, it made this whole situation a bit better for me.

After a short chat, Menna gave me a friendly smile and I paid her; eager to get back to the hotel room and my locked box.

# +

A brisk knock came from the opposite side of my door as I took the last hit from my bowl; sucking down the toxic smoke, holding it in for a few moments, and slowly exhaling.

Another knock came through, “Lennon, open up!”

I sighed and quickly shoved my possessions back into the box and opened the window beside the bed in hopes that a breeze would come through to air out the room. I shuffled over to the door and when I opened it I was surprised at who I was met with. “Paul? What’re you doin’ here?”

He gave me a knowing look before answering, “I was sent to get ya, the lads are in the lobby waiting.”

“Right. Soundcheck,” I nodded, “Let’s go.”

The ride in the lift with Paul was silent, but he definitely knew what I had been up to. I mean, how could he not? He knows why I’m here and, let’s face it, the stench of weed is pretty noticeable. I’m sure my eyes are pretty red too.

As the doors opened Paul said, “I’m not gonna say anythin’, but don’t think that someone isn’t goin’ tah notice.” And with that, he was off to the front of the group.

I slowly trailed behind, taking my sweet ole time, and immediately wished I had something to eat. It’s a double whammy, really, having the munchies _and_ being a Horan. That’s just not fair!

I abruptly hit the back of someone and was quickly snapped from my reverie. “Oh, sorry,” I muttered.

The body turned around and I looked up. I groaned and instantly regretted saying anything when I saw Curls smirking down at me. “S’alright. I’m sure we can figure out someway for you to repay me.”

My nose crinkled in disgust, “In your dreams, Curls.”

He chuckled and pushed up the sleeves of his grey flannel, his white v-neck dipped lower than normal and exposed his tattoos (something I would normally swoon over, but with Curls- I just couldn’t). He leaned down and whispered, “You smell like weed, you know.”

His warm, minty breath fanned over my face and for a moment, and _just_ a moment, I felt a bit weak at the knees. “Yeah, well, you smell like rotten cheese,” I whispered back.

“What?” he asked in disbelief, “Did you just tell me I smell like rotten cheese?”

“Oh, shut it,” I snapped, “I’m high and it’s the best I can do right now.”

“Duly noted,” he said with a smirk.

# +

Bored.

High.

I’m so very bored and so very high. But, I’m only complaining about the former.

You know, I’d think sitting in an empty arena would be a bit more exciting, but it’s actually kind of _dull_.

Fatuous Five has been running through various songs over the past hour or so. Don’t get me wrong, at first it was okay; sitting backstage and mucking around as they rehearsed. But when they began to run through the setlist for the second time I started to get bored. So I moved from backstage to the first row in the balcony, which was a much needed change of scenery.

In an attempt to keep myself occupied, I’ve been shouting at the lads. But it’s all in good fun, I promise.

“Oi, you call _that_ singing?!”

“Are you trying to dance or having a stroke?!”

“I think my ears are bleeding!”

“Put the mic down and walk away. Put it down and walk away!”

But I _guess_ I was being some sort of ‘nuisance’ since Niall sneered into the mic, “For all that is good and holy, Lennon, shut the fuck up!”

When I retaliated with a trusty, “Bite me,” I think he lost it.

“Paul, go get her down from there, would ya?”

I immediately shrieked and got down on my hands and knees to stay hidden and crawl away. As I worked my way over to the far end of the balcony I tried to ignore how disgusting it was that I was actually on the floor. But, nonetheless, I kept on with my journey.

“Fuck,” I muttered as I was halted in front of two feet. I slowly looked up from behind my hair and could make out a bit of Paul’s features. When my eyes met his I quickly looked back down. I took a deep breath and made the snap decision to spring to my feet and run like a madwoman in the opposite direction.

“Lass, get back ‘ere!” Paul shouted. I briefly turned around to see him chasing after me at top speed (well, top speed for Paul) and squawked as he neared me. “Lennon!” he boomed, only causing my adrenaline to pick up and allowing me to run faster.

I was almost to the staircase as I heard Louis shout in the mic, “Lennon takes the lead with Paul trailing behind! C’mon Paul, get it together!”

“Shut it, Lou!” Paul huffed as I quickly descended the stairs.

“She’s down the stairs and on the second level running east. I’ve never seen her move so fast! Is someone bribing her with food?” Louis continued on with his narration. “Paul is still on the move! He’s quickly catching up!”

I took this opportunity to look behind me.

Bad choice.

Paul is no more than twenty feet away and is going full tilt; there is _no_ stopping him now.

I ran down the last flight of steps two at a time and was headed for the stage. That’s when I heard heavy footsteps behind me. They were close; _too close_. But, I didn’t let that hinder my movements.

“He’s coming in swiftly!” Louis shouted. But I chose to ignore his words. I _would_ get away from Paul.

Unfortunately, when I was only thirty feet away from the stage, two big, strong arms swooped in around my frame. My body instantly collided with his and I let out an ‘oomf’.

I was hastily thrown over Paul’s shoulder, and no matter how much I protested and slammed my fists into his back, I was not let down. “Paul!” I whined, “Let me down you git!”

He chuckled, “Not a chance, lass.” He slowly made his way through the aisles of seating and before I knew it, we were up on the stage and I was _still_ thrown over Paul’s shoulder.

“Paul, you can put me down now!” I petulantly huffed as I _tried_ to cross my arms, but failed because I WAS STILL OVER HIS SHOULDER.

“A’right, a’right. But you better not run. If ya do, I’m sending these lads after you,” he threatened, “And they are much, much faster than I am.”

I agreed not to run and was soon back on my feet. Thank God.

“You six are nothin’ but a bunch of killjoys, ya know,” I said as I properly crossed my arms, “Nothin’ but a bunch of killjoys.” They shrugged and didn’t disagree with my conclusion. I rolled my eyes. “Well, I’m winded. Gettin’ some water. Paul?”

“I could go for some water,” he agreed.

Once we were back stage and partially quenched, our breath began to even out and I shot Paul a smile. “I think that’s the most fun I’ve had all tour.”

“Yeah,” Paul concurred, “Me too.”

I nudged him with my shoulder and he didn’t move an inch, and then he nudged me back and I lost my footing. “Easy there, Paul,” I joked.

He waved away my comment and turned to me, “I’ve got somethin’ to say to you,” his demeanor now much more serious.

“A’right,” I said, setting down my water bottle, “Shoot.”

“I think ya should actually stick around for the show tomorrow.”

“What?” I feigned confusion, “I’m always here for the shows!”

“Lennon, come on. Don’t play dumb with me,” Paul warned, “I know that you always sneak out for a bit to go to a pub or for a smoke or somethin’. You haven’t seen one of their shows this whole time we’ve been on tour.”

“Have to!” I tried to convincingly cry out.

He raised an eyebrow at me and there was a frown etched on his face, “Lennon, I’m serious.”

“S’not like it makes a difference, though. Does it?” I asked.

“He knows,” Paul quietly spoke, “The other lads don’t, but Niall knows you haven’t seen any of the shows. He’ll never let you see it, but it hurts him, ya know? So please, for the sake of your relationship with him, stay for the show tomorrow.”

I pang of guilt washed through my entirety, I honestly had no clue that he knew I didn’t stay. “Alright,” I whispered, “I’ll stay.”

# +

I have been pacing up and down the hotel lobby for about fifteen minutes. And that was after I paced in my room for a good half hour. I can’t sleep. I can’t distract myself. I can’t help but feel bad about what Paul told me earlier.

Was I really hurting Niall?

Hell, he’s been hurting me for the past three years; all I’ve ever been is angry over that. But hurting _him_? That makes me feel... guilty, terrible, like I’m a shit person.

 

“Lennon?”

I stop in my tracks and whip my head around to where the voice had come from.

Curls. Of course it was him. You’d think by now I’d know his voice, but I don’t, and I’m surprised each time I find that it’s him speaking to me.

“What are you doing down here?”

“I could ask you the same thing,” I quickly threw back. To be honest, I really didn’t want to get into all of this with him. _Especially_ since it would add to the whole ‘friendship’ thing.

“I went to your room to talk to you but you weren’t there. I figured I’d check around the hotel before I got anyone else involved,” he shrugged.

“Oh,” I whispered, “Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it. But why were you pacing? It’s-” he stopped speaking to check his watch, “2:30.”

“Couldn’t sleep,” I said and left it at that.

“Why? What’s up?”

Christ. He just can’t leave anything be, can he? Maybe the world isn’t on my side. “Just a lot on my mind. Nothing important,” I return and head towards the lifts. I hastily press the ‘up’ button several times for... good measure?

Harry saunters over and stands beside me before I have the chance to escape, “C’mon. Tell dear old Harry about your troubles.”

I let out a laugh and gave him a quick glance, “S’nothing.”

“Lennon,” Harry lilted.

“Fine,” I huffed. “Just thinking about what Paul said to me earlier. It kind of really fucked with my head, ya know?”

“And what did Paul say that’s got you all riled up?”

“Told me that I was hurting Niall and stuff,” I answered honestly. I looked over to Harry and he immediately met my gaze. His bright green eyes felt like they were looking into my soul and willing me to pour out more of my feelings. The lift doors opened and we stepped inside as I said, “It really just tears me up, ya know? And I don’t fuckin’ get that. He hurt me for three years and didn’t think a thing of it, and now I do one thing that bothers him and feel like shit.”

We reached our floor and stepped out once again, heading towards the end of the hall where we temporarily resided. “I’m sure whatever’s going on will work itself out,” Harry spoke, “I wouldn’t worry too much.”

I let out a bitter laugh, “As humans, we ruin everything we touch. Including each other. And we can blame it on a lot of things, or we can just admit we’re shit people. I think I’m gonna stick with that, a’right?” I stuck my key card into the slot and effortlessly opened the door. Harry quickly followed me in before I had the chance to close it, “So I guess you’re not done talkin’ then?”

“Nope,” he smirked, “I did come find you for a reason.”

“And that reason is...”

“To talk to you about my proposition.” I opened my mouth to say something but he instantly shook his head and spoke again. “I think we should do it. There’s no reason not to anyway.”

“No!” I cried out, “I already told myself that any sort of involvement with _any_ of you was a bad idea!”

“What, did the rest of the lads come to you with the same proposition?” he asked skeptically.

“No. I made that decision a long time ago. It just seems like a bad idea, a’right?” I harshly spoke as I got under the crisp bed covers.

 

Harry

 

“I don’t believe you,” I spoke as I squinted my eyes at her.

“Oh, and why is that?” Lennon sarcastically spat.

I gave her a crooked smile, “Because your eyes are always honest. They will always be telling the truth, even if your mouth is telling a lie. And I can see it in your eyes- you aren’t as annoyed with me as you pretend to be. But, I can’t really blame you, I mean, look at me!”

She groaned and threw a pillow at me that ended up hitting me square in the face. “Nice shot,” I teased with a wink and clambered onto the bed and sat next to her.

“Harry, no, and I mean it. Now please let me try to sleep, okay? It’s hard enough to lay here without any music, but with you flappin’ your jaw- I’ll never get to sleep.”

“Oh! That’s right, you said you can’t sleep without listening to music. See, we are becoming friends!” I grinned.

She let out another frustrated groan and narrowed her eyes at me, “I’m just going to close my eyes, when I open them in the morning you better be gone.” 

I threw my hands up in defense, “Alright, alright! No need to get snippy.”

She shook her head in disbelief and closed her eyes once more. I sat there on the bed with Lennon waiting for her to give in to my idea, but she never said a word- only tossed and turned for fifteen minutes. When she let out _another_ frustrated huff and turned on her side I came up with another idea. But this idea is nothing like my other one. No, not at all.

I laid down beside her and pulled her into my chest. At first she sucked in a sharp breath and her muscles tensed up, but she soon relaxed. I rubbed circles into her arm as I quietly sang,

“ _It's only natural to feel like you're sinkin'  
It's only human to be so unprepared _

_Don't worry baby, if you get a little high  
It's just a phase to get you through getting by   
So you get a little restless and you get a little wasted   
It's just a little light entertainment   
Embrace it, it might just save your life _

_You always say you're sorry  
But you never know what for   
And it's been happenin' more and more   
Act your age and not your shoe size   
And blah blah blah blah blah   
That's your role model slammin' the door _

_So it's only natural to feel the guilt of a nation  
It's only human, when you're young you're gonna cry_”

Somewhere in the middle of the song I felt Lennon’s breath even out and her body go lax. “You awake still?” I asked barely over a whisper. When I got no response I let out a contented sigh, whispered, “Sweet dreams, Lennon,” and gingerly placed a kiss on her forehead.


	17. Badass Bitch From Hell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Recommended Listening: Third Eye Blind - Wake For Young Souls

Louis

 

I, by no means, consider myself an eavesdropper. But, there are _those_ circumstances where one can’t help but overhear what others are saying. And maybe this is one of those moments.

 _Maybe_.

I just so happened to be in the kitchenette of our suite when I heard someone softly knock on the door; I moved to go answer it, but stopped dead in my tracks when another person quickly whipped the door open.

“Hey, what’s going on?”

Harry.

Harry was the one to run to the door?

Funny thing, actually. Last night I had gotten up to use the loo and when I rounded the corner there was Harry, coming in at 3:30 in the morning. It didn’t make sense to me because we had all returned back to the hotel together after the soundcheck, and he really didn’t have a reason not to be in the room.

“Oh, uhm, I was just surprised that you weren’t there when I woke up.”

But as I placed the voice that responded to him, it all clicked.

Harry let out a soft and nervous chuckle before he quietly said, “Well, you _did_ say that when, and I quote, ‘you opened your eyes I had better be gone’.”

“Right,” Lennon’s voice replied curtly.

I pressed myself against the wall as I neared the doorway, hoping to God that I wouldn’t make some noise or be seen.

“So... Was there something you needed?” he asked. I could practically envision what he was doing; smugly leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed as Lennon gave him a skeptical and bitter look.

“Er, I, uh, I just wanted to say thanks?” she spoke with uncertainty.

“Anytime,” he answered. It was silent for a few moments and I could imagine them standing there, awkwardly shifting their weight until someone else spoke, but then the door abruptly shut. I heard Harry walking down the hall towards the kitchenette and I hastily unglued myself from the wall and returned to my tea. “Hey, mate,” Harry lazily spoke.

“Morning,” I cheerfully returned, “What’re you doing up so early?”

He shrugged his shoulders in response and made his way to the kettle.

 _Oh_.

If that’s how he’s going to be about this, then fine. I’ll just take matters into my own hands.

“Something you need to tell me?” I asked.

He gave me an odd glance before tending to his tea again. “No? What would make you say that?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” I waved my hand about, “Just thought best mates told each other _certain_ things.”

Harry stopped what he was doing and narrowed his eyes at me. “What are you on about, Lou?”

“Oh, don’t play dumb with me!” I shout whispered. Honestly, did he think I wouldn’t notice what was going on? _No one_ can pull the wool over Louis Tomlinson’s eyes!

Harry’s jaw dropped open in bewilderment and he harshly set the kettle on the stovetop. “I seriously have no idea what you’re talking about.”

My jaw clenched as I rolled my eyes. “Do you honestly think I didn’t hear what you were just doing at the door?” I asked with a raised eyebrow. He gave me a sheepish look. “Alright then, spill.” He looked at me for a moment more before averting his gaze to his mug. “Do you really think Niall won’t find out? Or be pleased?”

Harry’s eyes snapped back up as he emphatically asked, “ _What_?”

I scoffed. “Alright, I’ll break it down for you. One;” I whipped my pointer finger out, “You know that Niall will be pissed when he finds out. Two; Niall specifically told you not to. Three; why _the fuck_ didn’t you tell me? Four; when the hell did this all start? Five; who the fuck thanks someone for a shag?”

“Look, Lou, it’s not like that,” he told me with a solemn look on his face and a slight shake of his head.  
I guess it’s my turn to be confused now. “What?”

Harry sighed as he ran his hands over his face and through his curls. “You’ve got it all wrong,” he informed me, “Nothing’s going on, alright?” The look on his face had me puzzled beyond belief; it was angry yet dejected?

“What?” I repeated.

He briefly shook his head; unruly morning curls flying about. “Long story, I guess.” I was definitely not taking that as an acceptable answer and gave him a look that said, ‘You better fucking tell me what the hell is going on and cut the bullshit.’. “Okay, okay!” his hands flew up in defense, “No need to be like that, Lou!”

“Sorry,” I muttered.

He nodded and, I assume, started at the beginning. “I went to talk to Lennon last night, but she wasn’t in her room. So, in lieu, I went to have a look for her, ya know?” I nodded my head in affirmation before he continued. “She was in the lobby pacing, _really_ torn up over some stuff about Niall. So we talked... kind of?” He finished his little spiel with one strong nod and his lips in a tight line. 

“Okay,” I vigorously nodded, “One question.”

“And that is?”

“Why was she thanking you?” I asked, truly puzzled over that fact.

“Oh, she can’t sleep without music and her iPod was on the bus still, so I sang to her. And... yeah,” he hesitantly answered, face washed in uncertainty.

“Do you like her?” came out of my mouth before I could even process anything, “Do you want to shag her or something?”

“Christ, Lou,” Harry grimaced, “Niall’s gonna hear you and get the wrong idea!”

“Sorry,” I apologized for the second time. “But do you?”

His demeanor completely changed as his eyes fell to his hands momentarily before snapping towards me again. “No, course not.”

# +

Lennon

Is it wrong that all the things that are bad for me are the things I like best? That the things that won’t leave me are the things that will kill me?

I don’t know the answer to those questions, but I have a feeling that it is wrong.

But, alas, here I am- outside the stage doors chain smoking cigarettes.

Fuck.

However, I am _one hundred percent_ sober. Just for Niall, and I’m staying for the show.

Just. For. Niall.

It’s not a secret that Paul’s words upset me, I hate seeing Niall upset, but I wish that I was strong enough to not give a fuck and to disregard his feelings altogether.

 

With a sigh I took the last drag and stomped out my cigarette with the heel of my boot and reentered the arena. People were bustling about and shouting- shoving others out of their way and getting whatever they needed to be done, done.

I slowly, but surely, made my way back over to the side of the stage and met with Paul and FF; trying to remain unnoticed, but nothing ever seems to go my way anymore.

“There ya are, Lenny!” Paul cheerfully boomed with a bright smile on his face.

“Lenny?” I questioned.

“Yeah,” he shrugged, still smiling brightly, “Where’ve you been?”

I gave him a weak smile, “Just getting some air.” Paul nodded but the lads eyed me skeptically.

“What have you done _now_?” Niall asked exasperatedly.

“Or who?” Harry added in quickly.

I rolled my eyes and let out a scoff. “If you’re goin’ to be a smartass, you have to smart first. Otherwise, you’re just an ass.”

“Just going off what I know,” Harry replied with a smirk.

I decided to ignore his dumb comment and turned my attention back to Niall. “I haven’t done anythin’, a’right?” I sighed and raised my hands up from my sides and dropped them in defeat, “I’m here. I’m sober. And I’m staying. Happy?”

Niall’s eyes gained a familiar glint and he sheepishly nodded. “Thanks.”

 

After a few minutes of mindless chatter the boys were pushed onto the stage. Immediately there were bloodcurdling screams and Liam shouted into his mic, “Massive thank you for coming out tonight!” I tuned the lads out quickly, though, and plopped down on a spare amp beside Paul.

“Ready for this, then?” he asked.

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” I facetiously returned. As soon as that comment left my mouth, one of FF’s catchy songs that I recognized came blaring out of the sound system. “Here’s to a long night. I guess.”

# +

“So, what did ya think?!” Niall exclaimed from the middle seat of the van, clearly still hopped up on adrenaline.

“It was... good,” I carefully chose my words. “Definitely not what I expected.” And it wasn’t. I honestly didn’t think that the show would be _that_ enjoyable. Hell, even the music wasn’t that bad. Definitely not what I prefer, but not that bad.

“Good,” he nodded with a smile on his face, “I’m glad.” I couldn’t help but smile back; his attitude was just so infectious. Not to mention that I haven’t seen him this happy in years (probably because I haven’t seen him in years, but whatever).

“See, we aren’t that bad,” Zayn cooed as he ruffled my hair.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” I waved my hand around, “Not that bad.”

After a few more minutes of driving the van came to a halt and everyone started piling out, Niall and I last. We were at a bar? Okay, that was definitely unexpected.

“So I know what you’re thinkin’,” he began, “But I figured, that you were sober today _and_ actually stayed for the show, so a few drinks won’t hurt, right? We’ll start gettin’ you on track tomorrow.”

“Sure,” I casually responded, though my brows pressed together, “Whatever you want.” But let’s be real here; he’s never going to make me get my act cleaned up.

# +

We sat in some old, dingy booth towards the back of the bar; drinking, talking, laughing, and having a good time.

This fact astonished me.

 

Well, it did until things went south (as per usual). And by going south, I mean some bimbo came strutting over like she owned the place with her tits put on display and her skirt riding up, making it blatantly obvious that she knew who they were.

Just her presence alone was making me sick as I suppressed an eye roll and some colourful language. I know it might seem weird that I’m getting so annoyed by her just being near us, but we were having a nice time before she came over.

So sue me for wanting to hangout with my brother and his mates without some slag hanging all over the place, a’right?

 

“Oh my God, it’s you!” she shrilly squealed.

Kill me now.

“It’s us...” Liam uncertainly spoke, clearly not appreciating her presence either.

“That’s what I thought! I saw you guys from across the bar and could not believe it!” she continued on in her voice that eerily reminded me of nails on a chalkboard.

The lads idly continued to chat with her as she pushed her tits out even more and bounced around in a seat she had pulled up. I, on the other hand, tried as hard as I could to ignore her.

Blegh.

Yup, you heard it first- This girl makes me blegh.

As she continued to drone on about whateverthefuck a slag talks about, she reached _over_ me to grab Niall’s arm. His eyes immediately snapped open and shot a look around the table, but the no name girl (let’s call her Muffy) took no notice and sent him a wink.

Ew.

Ew.

Ew.

Ew.

Fuck no.

Ew.

Don’t get me wrong, I know Niall is a good-looking bloke, but _ew_. He’s way too good for her and probably has to boil his arm and burn his jumper (just to be on the safe side).

And then Muffy said, “Okay, so, like, give me your honest opinion, am I-”

“An obnoxious slag? Yes,” I deadpanned. “Somewhere out there is a tree, tirelessly producing oxygen so you can breathe. I think you owe it an apology.”

Her jaw dropped open as she looked around the booth for some support, but all the lads were _attempting_ to stifle their laughter and hide their faces. I think Liam was trying the hardest; he gave me a stern look but had to clamp his lips shut when the corners of his mouth started twitching up. The girl let out some sort of scoff-groan-scream thing and through gritted teeth spoke, “Bitch, you’re gonna regret saying that!”

“Do I look like I care? Because if I do, I have given you the wrong impression,” I shot back after a taking a swig of beer. She repeated her inhuman noise and stomped away. I know those weren’t my best lines, but it got the job done. Muffy was a nightmare and I’m glad she’s gone.

“Oh my lord,” Louis spoke between laughs, “Love, you have got to put that on twitter.”

I gave him a funny look and shook my head, “I don’t have a twitter, Fancy.”

He abruptly stopped laughing and became serious, “Wait- what? Why?”

“Because twitter is for the birds... and famous people. But the two are basically the same,” I shrugged.

“What do you mean?” Harry asked.

“Well,” I began, “They both just fly around and do whatever they please while they shit on everyone’s lives.” My eyes shot towards Niall even though I fought _really_ , _really_ hard against it.

“Hey!” they all exclaimed, looking all overly offended about it.

“But not you guys, you’re all...great,” I spoke before hastily sipping on my beer, quickly trying to coverup my indirect insult. Or maybe it was direct? You know what, I don’t even care.

“Oh, quit lyin’,” Niall spoke with a teasing tone.

“I’m not lying!” I insisted.

“Yes you are! You’re voice got all high at the end; you know that’s your tell.”

“Fine! Maybe I was lying, deal with it, a’right?” I sassily returned with a smirk.

“I think you should get a twitter,” Louis interjected. His eyes were hopeful and glassy. Apparently drunk Louis doesn’t have good ideas.

“And why would I do that, Fancy?”

“Because you’re cheeky and funny and a badass and all the stuff that goes with that, duh,” he hastily spoke; as if speed would convince me to give in. I chuckled at his persistence but shook my head.

“Question,” Liam carefully lilted. I nodded for him to go on. “How do you do stuff like that? Like, not give a shit about what anyone’s gonna think afterwards.”

I readjusted myself so I was properly sitting up and rested my elbows onto the tabletop so I could lean in. “Easy,” I smiled, “I wake up every morning and tell myself I’m a badass bitch from hell and that no one can fuck with me and then don’t let anybody fuck with me.”

I leant back in my chair and Niall patted me on the back with a smile plastered on his face. “That’s my baby sister for ya.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you think, I'd love to hear from you!


	18. I Don't Like Pants

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Recommended Listening: Macklemore - Irish Celebration

As the night carried on the drinks kept coming, the bar was filled with people, and the conversation never stopped. Of course, there were the girls that would run over and squeal at the lads, but they’d brush them off and we’d carry on with whatever it was that we were doing. To be honest, I was a bit surprised that they weren’t making more of an effort to get with someone.

I mean, they’re famous and fit and girls are throwing themselves at them. How much easier could it get?! If I was some famous person for doing whateverthefuck and had people coming up to me all the time, I think I would jump on that bandwagon and ride it all the way around the world.

But maybe that’s just something _I_ would do.

 

As another slag was shooed away from the table by my ridiculous commentary Harry turned to me and asked, “How do you do that?”

“Do what?” I asked as innocently as possible.

“Just say things that make people leave,” he returned in an obvious tone. “You did it to that girl in New York and the one in Florida and now you’re doing it left and right.”

“Well that girl in New York was a bumbling idiot and oh my God,” I huffed out and cocked my head to the left briefly, “Don’t even get me started on that girl in Florida. It took everything in me not to slap the crunchy curl out of her hair and send her back to whatever monster truck backseat she was born in.”

“Love,” Louis interjected, “What makes you think she was born in a monster truck?”

“She’s from Florida,” I shrugged.

“That doesn’t mean tha-”

I hastily put my hand up, “Just let me have that one.”

# +

It was nearing 2 a.m. and the lot of us had finally dispersed about the pub about an hour earlier. I couldn’t see any of FF and for all I knew they had left and I was here on my own (one can wish, right?). As I sat at the bar I wondered where Paul was and if he had been sitting in the lot for the past few hours- ‘cause if he has, I feel terrible.

“Let me get you another drink,” the lad sitting next to me spoke. I nodded in response and watched his arm muscles flex in his tight shirt as he waved the barman down.

He was actually a pretty nice guy. He had come over a bit earlier and introduced himself as Greyson. Normally I wouldn’t have given two shits about someone who pulled the ‘let me buy you a drink’ card, but with him and his dirty blonde hair and brown eyes- it worked. We’d been talking for a good bit as well, which was odd for me since I never really had conversations with the people I wanted to shag.

And yes, I do want to shag Greyson.

_Oh my God_ \- I want to shag him.

He slid me another glass of cheap whiskey as he sipped his. “So, Lennon, you here alone?”

I gave him a smirk, “Came with my brother and his mates, but I suppose you could say I’m alone.” My eyes scanned the pub quickly; not once finding any of FF.

“Why don’t we get out of here?” he asked as he jerked his head towards the door, a sly smile playing on his plump, pink lips.

I nodded, not having a reason not to- FF was nowhere to be seen and it had been a while for me. “Yeah, let’s go.”

# +

Greyson had driven us back to the hotel I was staying at for our little... tryst. The whole ride there and up to my room was full of heated kisses and heavy petting; I’m sure it _looked_ like we were going to rip each other’s clothes off at any second to anyone we passed. Well, actually, that's _exactly_ what it was like.

When we finally got to my floor we quickly and quietly made it my door; I fumbled with the lock as he peppered deep kisses across my skin. But as soon as we made it into the room he slammed me up against the wall to grind his hips into mine as we got into some full on snogging.

I won’t get into a lot of details, but he was fucking sensational in bed. Like, dominating yet intuitive on what I needed too. Never, and I mean _never_ , have I ever been with anyone who had both of those qualities. Sure, Flynn tries his best (and his best is fucking awesome), but Greyson really fucking got it- pushing me against walls and taking control (which I really love), but making sure that all my spots were hit.

He fucked me senseless and it was sensational.

I don’t even know how to explain it any other way.

So... yeah.

 

The sun was streaming in from the open shades, making me involuntarily groan and flop over to my other side. Greyson was still in bed with me, but I didn’t really mind too much this time. I mean, it was the wee hours of the morning when we actually got here and we were a bit fucked up, and did I mention that he was really good in bed? So it was... excused or whatever.

As my weight shifted his eyes fluttered open and his raspy voice sounded, “Morning, Lennon.”

“Morning, Grey,” I smiled before getting out of bed to throw some clothes on. He followed suit, and we dressed in silence.

Before long we were in the hallway, waiting for the lift to arrive. “I had a good time last night,” Greyson said as he tugged his jacket on.

“Yeah,” I nodded, “Me too.” He gave me a lazy smile and pulled me by my wrist into his broad chest. His eyes trailed down my face, landing on my lips as he licked his own. He slowly leaned down and pressed a chaste kiss to my lips that soon turned deep and heated (thanks to yours truly).

I chose to ignore the heavy footsteps coming down the corridor, and focused all my attention on kissing the life out this boy; even when the footsteps got closer and seemed to multiply, I ignored them.

The lift dinged open and we broke apart, allowing Greyson to step inside. He turned to face me before the doors closed and said, “If you’re ever back in town, look me up.” I nodded with a smirk and allowed the doors to close.

I turned around to head back to my room and was faced with Harry and some girl about fifteen feet away from me. I bit my lip as I passed them in an attempt to suppress my laughter at her noticeable walk-of-shame attire. “Mornin’, love birds,” I teased with a shit-eating grin.

Harry gave me a tight lipped smile that was _extremely_ forced and quickly spoke, “We’re leaving in an hour. I’d hurry back to your room if I were you, Niall will be out for food soon.”

I rolled my eyes. “Duly noted.”

# +

I sat in the back room of the tour bus, enjoying my souvenir, and letting my thoughts roam- FF had been sitting at the kitchen table the last time I saw them, speaking with UC on the phone about something or another- so I was free to do as I pleased.

And what do I please?

Sitting in my jumper and knickers, smoking to my heart’s content, and listening to _good_ music. Hence the stereo on full blast playing Modest Mouse- one of my favourites.

In the blink of an eye an hour passed. It seemed like long enough to me, so I packed another bowl; eager to occupy my mind with something since Paul told me this would be an especially long ride.

After two bowls I walked into the kitchen red eyed, giggly, and hungry. I disregarded the blatant stares from Fancy, Muscles, Curls, Mysterious, and Fucker, and rummaged through the pitiful cabinets in search of something to satisfy my munchies.

“Did ya forget something back there?” Niall asked with amusement in his voice.

My body froze as I thought over what he could be talking about. When I came up with nothing I turned my head and said, “I don’t think so... What are ya talkin’ about?”

He broke into a fit of laughter, his eyes squinting shut as his mouth gaped open. “I just thought ya might want some trousers, but tah each their own.”

My mouth dropped into an ‘o’ shape as I nodded in comprehension, “I don’t like pants, I’m good.” I returned my attention back to the cabinets as I shifted various packages around searching for some crisps. “Ah, there ya buggers are!” I exclaimed as I pulled a bag of cool ranch Doritos down.

“You seem to be in a good mood,” Harry spoke, “Any reason why?”

 

Well, yes.

I’ve been fucked and I’m stoned.

What else do I need to be in a good mood?

 

“No reason,” I spoke through a mouth full of crisps.

He gave me a knowing glance, “Your eyes are telling me differently.” I rolled my eyes at him and continued eating my weight in Doritos. “Care to share?” he asked.

I stopped chewing and glanced down at the bag. I shrugged and thrusted the bag towards him, “Help yourself.”

“Oh no, no,” he shook his head, “We want the other thing you’ve got.”

“We?” I questioned incredulously, “And what have I got?”

“Yes, we. The five of us,” Harry motioned around the table, “Want some of what you bought in Colorado.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Yes you do. I can picture perfectly what your mum would say if she knew you didn’t share with us.”

My mouth gaped open in disbelief before I sharply asked, “How do you know what my mum would do?”

All five of the lads laughed before Liam said, “Love we’ve met her plenty of times. At your own home, no less!”

My jaw remained unhinged as I eyed goddamn FF. “How have you been to my home without me knowing?”

“Len,” Niall began in an arrogant tone with a roll of his eyes, “You may have _lived_ there, but that wasn’t your _home_. The lads visited plenty of times with me and you were always out as per usual.”

“Right, right,” I spoke with a forced smile and a wave of the hand. “So if you want some, let’s get to it. Oh, and grab some beers.”

Fuck keeping my souvenir to myself. At this point I’ll do anything to keep Niall’s comment out of my head.

# +

Liam

“You know,” Lennon abruptly spoke, “This was probably a bad idea.”

“What was?” Zayn asked as he puffed on the joint.

“Sharin’ this,” she said with ease and took the joint from Zayn’s hand. “I’ve got a list as to why.”

“Alright, let’s hear it then,” Louis chuckled and cracked open another beer.

“First of all, I don’t like sharing. Secondly, smoking will damage all your pretty little voices,” she teased with a sly wink, “Third, you’ve got young fans. They shouldn’t have role models that smoke weed- that’s just wrong.”

I quickly reiterated her list to myself before I slowly shook my head and said, “Those don’t seem like very solid reasons to me.”

“Fine,” she shrugged. She threw the blankets that were covering her off of her legs and stood up from her spot- exposing her long, lean legs.

“Did you really not put trousers on beforehand?” Niall asked with a dopey chuckle.

“Mate,” Harry nudged Niall with his elbow, “Don’t ruin it for the rest of us!”

“Har-”

Lennon cut him off with a clap before a fight ensued. “Where are we going?”

“Washington.”

As Lennon and Zayn aimlessly spoke about things to do there I let my mind wander.

Mostly to things about Lennon...

Oops?

She grabbed the joint from Lou and took a hit before passing it to me and grabbing her beer.

It’s kind of odd (at least I think it is) that Niall has promised for the last two months that he’d help Lennon out, but has done nothing to keep that promise. I reckon that he has no idea how to do it, or is scared, or something. I feel like I should step in, but don’t want to be a bother. I mean, this is kind of a personal issue for her- something her _family_ should be helping her with, not one of her brother’s mates.

_But_ , the lads are basically my brothers, which in turn makes Lennon like my sister.

Right?

That’s how it feels at least.

# +

It’s official:

I’m really, _really_ fucked up.

Like, off my rocker fucked up.

And I love it.

Don’t get me wrong- I’ve done this shit before, but it’s better when I’m with my best mates.

“Oi, you fuckhead, give it back!” Lennon shouted as she jumped to try to grab a beer from Harry’s hand. He laughed as he towered over her, easily keeping her drink out of reach.

I haven’t really ever noticed how tiny Lennon is, but fuck- she’s so small. She must be at least two inches shorter than Niall and her frame is much more lean. Hell, all five of us are much larger than her in all aspects of size, but Harry just _towered_ over her; there really isn’t another way to explain it.

Lennon huffed as she wiped her long blonde hair out of her eyes. She turned to face me and gave me an exaggerated pout, “Liam, give me a hand, would ya?” I pushed myself off of the wall I was leaning on and made my way closer to them; effortlessly snatching the beer from Harry and lightly shoving him to the side before I handed it over to Lennon. “Thanks, Li,” she smiled.

“Li?” I questioned, “What happened to Muscles?”

She shrugged with a giggle, eyes half open and hazy. “Thought you lot didn’t like my nicknames, so I went with the obvious one.”

I shook my head with a grin on my face, “Nah, I quite like Muscles. It’s good for the self-esteem.”

“Got it,” she returned with a bright smile before Harry made his way over again and lifted her off the ground and threw her over his back. “Curls! Put me down this instant!”

“Hey, I thought you were done with those atrocious nicknames,” he scoffed.

“Muscles said they were good for the self-esteem, so they’re stayin’! Sorry, Charlie,” Lennon snickered.

I watched as Harry glowered at her and ran around the small backroom with her draped over his shoulder, Lennon attempting to not spill her beer everywhere. She squealed as he unexpectedly dropped her on a pile of pillows and snatched her beer; sending her a quick wink before sauntering over to Louis who had a knowing look etched onto his face.

And if I didn’t know any better, I’d swear Harry had feelings for Lennon. But that’s impossible; Lennon said she doesn’t do relationships and Harry... Well, Harry’s too _Harry_ , if you know what I mean. He’s never in a committed relationship, and I don’t think he ever will be.

They’re kind of alike in that aspect; liking sex and everything that goes with it, but not liking feelings and getting to know people.

A weird duo, they are.

# +

After things had calmed down and we satisfied our munchies with anything and everything we had to eat on the bus, the six of us plopped down around the backroom; everyone with a beer in hand.

It had been dead silent for several minutes before Lennon abruptly shouted, “FUCK.”

Everyone’s eyes shot over to her as she sat motionless and expressionless, acting as if nothing had come out of her mouth. “You’ve got a profanity problem,” I casually said before taking a sip of my beer.

“Oi! I don’t have a profanity problem! I just like to have a wide variety of words to express my emotions!” she cheekily returned with a smile.

“Amen to that!” Niall praised with his hand outstretched for a high five. Lennon shook her head at her brother, but gave him a high five nonetheless.

“It wasn’t really a variety of words if you ask me,” Zayn muttered as the Irish pair did some weird hand thingy. She rolled her eyes at him and moved to fish something out of her pocket.

Within seconds Lennon was shouting again, “SHIT. FUCK. GODDAMN SHIT FUCK. FUCKING FUCK,” as she leapt into the air and hopped from one leg to the other. One last ‘FUCK!’ came from her before she ran out of the room.  


“Well, that was... interesting,” Niall spoke with a shrug. “I don’t even know what to do with her anymore.”  


“I’ll, uh, I’ll go see what that was about,” Harry spoke with uncertainty and more slowly than usual.  


“Careful, mate,” Niall began, “Who knows what she’s done this time.” 

# +

Harry

“Lennon?” I loudly spoke as I checked all the areas she could have gone to, making my way to the front of the bus. “Where’d you go?” I heard a few muffled groans as I neared the bunk area, but, for the life of me, couldn’t place where they were coming from. “Lennon?”  


“Bathroom!”  


I gently pushed the door open, “What’re you doing in here?” She sent me a quick glare over her shoulder, and as I took a step closer I informed her that, “That was quite a scene you made back there. What’s it all about?”  


“Oh, you know,” she quietly spoke, “Just bein’ an dolt, as usual.”  


“Don’t be so hard on yourself,” I smirked, “You aren’t always a dolt. Sometimes you’re a git.”  


“Oh, _ha ha_ ,” she bitterly returned, “You’re quite the comedian, Curls.”  


She was perched on the side of the tub, hunched over and fiddling with something I couldn’t quite see. “What are you doing, babe?”  


Lennon’s head snapped up and around, “What did you just call me?”  


“N-Nothing,” I stuttered, “Sorry.” Fuck, who the hell is she to make me stutter? That just isn’t gonna fly. “So what are you doing?”  


“Burnt my leg with me lighter- s’gonna leave a nasty mark- then spilt my beer down my jumper. Told you I was bein’ a dolt,” she dryly returned. I peered over her shoulder as she attempted to clean up the burn; hissing in pain each time she moved.  


“Here,” I gingerly spoke as I sat down on the edge of the tub next to her, “Let me.” She slowly pulled her hands away and I grabbed a cloth and some items to clean her up with.  


I tried, as gently as I could, to press the wet cloth on the burn, but she hissed in pain once again. Her hand clamped onto my shoulder and her nails dug in through my thin t-shirt. “Fuck, Curls! Easy does it!”  


“Sorry,” I mumbled and took the cloth off, her grip lessened. I slowly repeated the process but distracted her with conversation this time, “So, who was that this morning?”  


Her grip returned and I could practically hear her roll her eyes before she answered, “Greyson. Who were you with this morning?”  


“Mandy, I think her name was,” I returned honestly. I grabbed the rubbing alcohol and dampened the cloth before pressing it onto her leg once more.  


“And how was Mandy?”  


“Eh,” I weakly responded, chancing a look up to Lennon's face, “Alright, I suppose. And Gary?”  


Lennon smirked, “Greyson. And he was wonderful, thanks.” I gave her a quick, half smile and pressed down on the cloth again. “Fuck, Curls. You’re cleaning it, not rubbing out a stain!” she yelped, fingers still clinging to my arm.  


“Sorry, sorry!” I murmured, taking the cloth off and spreading a bit of cream over the mark. “You know, you reek of beer,” I informed her as I finished covering the burn with a bandage.  


She scrunched up her face in displeasure as she pulled her shirt up to her nose. “My jumper’s soaked. Could you get me another?”  


“Uhm, sure. I’ll be right back.”

  


Lennon

Riddle me this: Why the fuck does everyone keep insisting on being nice to me? I really would like to know.  


Like Liam, for instance. We usually don’t talk much, but today he was sweet and funny and things that usually don’t go hand in hand with him and me. Harry’s been unusually nice too; warning me about Niall this morning, joking around with me while we were fucked up, cleaning up my burn and getting me a spare jumper.  


It’s all a bit weird, if you ask me.

But what do I know?

I stripped off my soiled jumper and threw it in the tub, soaking it with warm water. “Alri- Woah, sorry!” Harry yelped as he barged in.  


I stood up straight and faced him, hands resting on my hips. “Since when have you been concerned about me not havin’ clothes on?” I asked him skeptically. “I _met you_ when I was in my knickers and then later that day you saw me change. How is this any different?” I asked, eyebrow raised as I waited for his answer.  


“I, uh, I-I just,” he began stammering, “I don’t know. Just threw me off?”  


“Right,” I lilted and held my hand out, “Get me a jumper?”  


“Oh, yeah. Here you go,” Harry hastily spoke and made his way to the door.  


“This isn’t mine,” I spoke slowly, “Whose is it?”  


Curls froze in place and slowly turned on his heel. “Mine. I couldn’t find your bag, so I just- I got you one of mine.”  


“Oh, thanks,” I mumbled as I pulled it over my head and watched as it fell to my knees.  


“Don’t mention it. You look good in my clothes, by the way,” he smirked, “S’not as good as yours though, since I can’t see your bum. Maybe you should just go jumper-less.”  


“In your dreams, Curls. In your dreams.”  


“You fucking bet it’s in my dreams,” he mumbled.

Ah, and cheeky Harry is back.


	19. Always Ruining My Fun

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Recommended Listening: Matt & Kim - Let's Go

Zayn

There are quite a few things I’ve learned about Lennon in the past two months. Now, they aren’t all too in depth and are kind of trivial, but they’re things that definitely make her _her_.

1\. She clings on to drugs and alcohol like they’re her lifeline.  
2\. She doesn’t do relationships.  
3\. Her and Niall are alike in so many ways, but, at the same time, are the complete opposite.  
4\. She’s nice to most people- or at least the people she cares about. But if you do or say _one_ thing that goes against her, she’ll rip you a new one.

Like I said, these things don’t really add up to anything terribly significant. But they are the things I’ve picked up on. They’re the things that she _lets_ people see.

For the past two months I’ve wanted to ask her so many questions; to find out why she is the way she is. Normally I wouldn’t do that with someone, but she’s just so... _out there_ that I can’t help but wonder.

But maybe now is my chance. I mean, she is laying next to me, and everyone else is dispersed about the bus sleeping. “Lennon?” I whispered while nudging her lightly.

“Hmm?” she grumbled as she turned her head to face me.

I paused for a moment, chewing on my lower lip as I thought over how to word my question. “Why- How come things are like this? Like with you and Niall. And how you act and stuff. Ya know what I mean?”

She quietly let out a curt, bitter laugh. “How come your so interested, hm?” she teased, “Come on, Mysterious, you can tell me.”

I shrugged my shoulders and stared up at the ceiling before saying, “I’ve just been curious. Nothing seems simple with you.”

“Well, s’all a very long story,” she spoke dismissively. “‘Bout nineteen years worth of shit.”

“I’ve got time,” I glanced down at my watch, “Seven hours, to be exact.”

I could see her nose crinkled up as she let out a light laugh from the the dim streetlights we passed, her eyes squinting- looking much like Niall. “I s’ppose I could start from the beginning then, yeah?” I nodded, encouraging her to continue on. “Well, uh, I’ve always been the black sheep of the family. A bit of a head case, loose cannon, not knowin’ which way is up. Well, that’s what my parents say anyway,” she rolled her eyes. She pulled the duvet up to her chin and burrowed down before speaking again. “And when Greg and Niall got their shit together and started doing something with their lives, I, well, didn’t. I just- I did what I wanted.”

I gave her a small, crooked smile, “That’s not a bad thing, though.”

“No, but I guess it just went on for too long. Ya know? And then-” she let out a breathy chuckle and looked away from me, “You know how Niall said that I may have lived there, but it wasn’t my home?”

“Yeah,” I returned, “S’a bit weird.”

“Yeah, it is.” She chewed on the inside of her cheek before turning back to face me. “But it’s true. At fourteen, I think it was, I was hardly ever home. Always with Rosie or Flynn. I did see Niall and I went to school and all that, but I was becoming distant from him and Greg and my parents. I just didn’t want to be there- to put my failures in front of them all the time.” She let out a sigh, and in a barely audible whisper said, “Which is fucked up at fourteen, isn’t it? I was losing. I was losing at life. Do you know how much that sucks? Especially when you’re told by your own family, no less, everyday?”

I gave her a sympathetic smile and grabbed her hand, squeezing it tightly as I spoke, “I’m sorry. I- I shouldn’t have brought it up.”

“No really,” she squeezed my hand back, “S’alright. Someone ought tah know.”

“No one knows?”

“Well, none of you lot. But I’ll tell you. If I end up snapping one day, this might help you figure out why,” she joked.

I shook my head with laughter, “Go on, then.”

“Right. So I was fourteen and I started doing all that shit that kids do. Ya know, smokin’, drinkin’ _more_ , gainin’ a taste for Mary J. And then I started doing drugs. Mind you, I’ve never done crack or anythin’ like that. So don’t be goin’ around thinkin’ or spoutin’ off that I have or do or whatever.”

“Got it,” I returned with an amused smile on my face.

“Good. Anyway, that shit storm started and I strayed further from everything. But I always maintained somewhat of a good relationship with Niall. And then he auditioned for X-Factor- which is awesome, really- but as he got further and further, I got more and more... oh, I don’t know, off track? And then you guys placed third and we stopped talking all together. All on his part, of course. But I was proud of him nonetheless and just dealt with it.”

“With drugs and alcohol,” I continued on for her.

“Right,” she answered with one nod. “I don’t really know why. But it was kind of like they were all I had left; my parents were so disappointed in me, Greg had a life of his own, and Niall _chose_ to walk out of my life. He just walked right out, without any consideration about how I felt. So I started caring even less and things got a bit out of hand and now here I am. On my stupid brother’s band’s tour bus, talking to his mate at three in the morning about my downward spiral. Awesome.”

“Oh, don’t sound so elated about talking to me,” I sarcastically retorted.

She nudged me with her free hand. “Ya know what I mean.” I gave her a smile and we fell into a comforting silence. She played with the ends of her hair and I studied her face; not seeing any trace of the trying experiences she’s been through.

“Hey,” I whispered, “Thanks for telling me everything. I know you aren’t really one for opening up, so... thanks.”

“Well, it most certainly wasn’t _everything_ , but yeah. Thank you- for listening. For asking,” she whispered back as she gave my hand one last squeeze.

# +

Niall

Do you know who’s frustrating?

Lennon, that’s who.

She’s sleeping like a rock in the back of the bus, still without trousers, and won’t get up for anything. Not even the promise of food! That’s basically a sin in her book!

“Is she dead?” Louis asked as he kicked her foot with his.

When there was still no response I shook my head, “Nah, she’s breathing. Not sure if that’s a good or bad thing at this point.”

“Well that’s no-”

“It was a joke, mate,” I said as I shook my head.

“Not a very good one.”

“S’not like you make great jokes all the time.”

“They’re better than yours.”

“Name one.”

“Well, there was last night when I-”

“Would ya two, shut up?!” Lennon snapped, one eye popped open to glare at us.

“Oh!” Louis exclaimed with a smile, “You’re up!”

She rolled her eyes and ever-so-elegantly gave us the finger. “You two could be a bit quieter the next time you decide to bicker like an old married couple,” came out of her mouth with a scoff.

I shook my head in disbelief, “Don’t be ridiculous. Lou’s _obviously_ in a committed relationship with Harry.”

“Ah, that’s right. Larry Stylinson. How could I forget?” she facetiously spoke and pulled out her headphones, carefully wrapping them up. “What is it that you needed, then?”

“WE HAVE ARRIVED!” Louis boomed, leaning towards her with jazz hands.

“And you wonder why I ignore you people. Honestly...” she trailed off.

“I resent that.”

“‘Course ya do, Lou,” I clapped him on the back. “Now let’s get this show on the road.”

 

Lennon was polite enough to throw on a pair of sweats and help me and Louis clean up a bit. As the three of us gathered our belongings and clambered to the front of the bus, Lennon asked, “What’s on the agenda?”

“Day of rest. Show tomorrow. Think that’s it, though,” I rattled off as we neared the exit. “Oh, and it’s raining, so be careful when you run off to greet the pavement.”

“Duly noted,” she replied with amusement on her features.

 

Lennon

As the five idiots ran off the bus and through the pouring rain towards the back of the hotel, I stood in the doorway of the bus. Looking up at the clouded sky and taking a deep breath; inhaling the lovely scent of rain. I stepped off of the stairs and, not even a moment after my foot hit the pavement, a lightning strike lit up the dark sky and a clap of thunder sounded.

My head immediately snapped up again to watch the sky; cold rain incessantly pelting my face and I made no movements towards the hotel. My thin jumper was soaked through and my shoes filled with water; sloshing with each movement my toes made.

“Lennon! Would ya hurry up?! You’re gonna catch a cold!” Niall shouted from the safety of an overhang. My eyes fluttered over to where he and the four other lads stood- each of them almost completely dry.

“Oh, shush! Don’t ruin my fun!” I hollered back. Even though he was a good 20 metres away from me, I could see him shake his head and mutter something. It was probably along the lines of, ‘Mad, drugged-up bitch’.

Or not.

But hey, you never know.

Er, I guess I never know- since I don’t pay him any attention these days.

 

“Lennon, we’re checkin’ in. If you don’t come you don’t get a key,” Niall warned.

I gave him a shrug as my eyes watched the sky light up once more. “Fine by me!” I dropped my bag on the wet ground and plopped down on top of it.

I’m sure it seems a bit odd that I’m willingly sitting in a downpour, but it’s normal- for me at least. I’ve always found rain enjoyable. It started at an early age when Niall and I would run around and play in the rain; not giving two fucks about anything and just enjoying each other’s company. Then when things got, er, _complicated_ , I guess I found refuge in it. Even if I didn’t run a muck in the rain, I’d sit on the porch and think back to when things were simple. When things were better. And I guess now it’s kind of the same; taking a break from all things FF and submersing myself in the rain- in the past.

I don’t know how long I had been sitting in the pouring rain, and I was only snapped out of my peaceful reverie when I heard someone calling for me. “Lennon, come on! It’s been fifteen minutes! Are you trying to catch a cold?” My attention drifted from the sky over to the doorway where Harry stood. He had an incredulous look on his face as he tried his best to stay out of the rain. “Lennon?”

“M’fine here,” I quietly called back. The rain had blurred my vision and my clothes and hair were stuck to my body, though, I couldn’t have cared less. I felt comfortable and tranquil for the first time in weeks.

I could see him roll his eyes and shake his head before he tugged his jumper close and sprinted out into the rain. He reached me in seconds and was pulling on my hand, “C’mon, this is ridiculous.”

He pulled me to my feet and I shot him a glare. “Ya know, you’re just like Niall.”

“How so?” he mumbled as he grabbed my bag off the ground and hoisted it over his shoulder.

“Always ruining my fun. Not letting me be,” I returned easily as another clap of thunder rolled through.

“Yeah, well, you’re a pain. Your fun is gonna get ruined a lot.”

“You’re a prick.”

“And you’re a right bitch. Anything else we need to cover?” he retorted. I could see his jaw clench in anger as his eyes narrowed in on me; daring me to put up more of a fight.

“Yeah, actually,” I began, bracing myself for the question that was about to leave my lips. “That thing you said back in Florida... That’s over with, right?”

“Yeah,” he breathed, “Stupid suggestion, really. Don’t know why I thought it was a good idea.”

“Good,” I nodded. Harry took a deep breath and tugged on my hand again- pulling me towards the hotel doors, muttering unintelligible words to himself.

# +

Niall

I heard the hotel room door open and slam shut, followed by the drop of a bag and some muttering. Surely this isn’t a good sign. Lennon must have done something stupid. So, I got up off my arse and made my way towards the door; immediately seeing Harry and Lennon, each soaking wet and looking quite angry. “What’ve you done now?” I asked in a sigh.

“Nothing!” Lennon snapped, “He’s just a twat.”

“And she,” Harry scoffed while jabbing his thumb towards her, “Is a looney bint.”

I took a deep breath, rubbing my hands over my face and licking my lips. “Just give it a rest, would ya? Go get changed, Lennon.” She rolled her eyes at me and grabbed her bag before trudging to a bedroom. When I heard the door slam I turned my attention back to Harry, “What happened, then?”

“Went to go get her from the rain, which I still don’t understand why she was in, but she she gave me grief for that,” he spoke bitterly. “Then on the way up she kept at it. Talking about how we’ve all mucked her life up, or whatever. So I gave her a piece of my mind. Might’ve gotten a bit carried away,” he shrugged.

I let out a heavy sigh as I ran my tongue over my teeth, shaking my head at their childish behavior. “Maybe you two need to take a break. You can’t even be in the same room for an extended period of time without rippin’ each other’s heads off, so just- Just stay away from her. She’s here for a reason, and that reason is not to be all buddy-buddy with you shitheads. So I want you to back off.”

“I’m not-”

I held my hand up and cut him off, “I know you’re not _doing_ anything, but please, just do this for me. For her well being. I’m gonna say the same to the rest of ‘em, so don’t feel like I’m singling you out. It’ll just be better this way.”

Harry shuffled on his feet, pulling his soaked jumper from his body only to have it cling back immediately. “Got it, mate. Wouldn’t wanna do anything to upset _her_ ,” he replied a little harshly. Without another word, he briskly walked past me and towards another room in the suite- the door slamming shut only moments later.

“This was a terrible idea.”

# +

After a few hours the rain had finally let up a bit. In the meantime, I had spoken to the rest of the boys. I had just sat them down and told them what I told Harry; I kept calm and just explained that I _needed_ to help her get it together. I owed it to her, our parents, and myself because I couldn’t help but feel like somehow this was all my fault.

The only thing I had left to do was to tell Lennon about all of it. I don’t expect her to be too angry about me telling the boys to back off, but I don’t think she’s gonna want to hear it. I definitely don’t think she wants to hear what I have planned.

Not one bit.

I softly knocked on the door to the room she was in and entered when I heard her call. “Hey, Len, I thought that may- Jesus Christ, have you smoked your weight?” I asked in bewilderment. The air in the room was thick with smoke; it was a wonder how I hadn’t noticed it before. Her eyes were bright red and she had a childlike grin on her face, giggling when she saw my reaction.

“Niall!” she exclaimed, “What are you doin’ here?!”

I couldn’t help but laugh at her (which probably wasn’t the smartest thing), and I went to open the bedside window. “Wanted to see if you’d go for a walk with me.”

She narrowed her already squinted eyes at me, “What are you playing at?”

I put my hands up in defense and sat on the bed beside her. “Just wanted to talk. Sort some things out. Plus, I feel like we haven’t seen a lot of each other on this tour. That’s gotta be fixed.”

Lennon curtly laughed and shook her head. “Yeah, gotta fix that _now_. Now that I’ve fucked things up a bit more for _you_.”

“S’not what I meant and ya know it,” I bit back. “Just, c’mon,” I tugged on her sleeve as I stood. At first she didn’t budge, but with a few more solid tugs she came around. As she got her shoes on I grabbed a key and waited patiently for her at the door. 

 

Fifteen minutes later we’re walking side by side, silently, down a back road. It hasn’t been silent on purpose, though. But each time I open my mouth to say something, she looks at me with those high-eyes and a goofy smile that I don’t want to take away from her. I don’t want her to hate me more than she already does.

As I awkwardly scratched the back of my neck, I somehow gained the courage to speak up, “So, there’s something I’ve got tah tell you.”

“Figures,” she shrugged, “What is it, then?”

“Well, uh, I-I,” I began to stammer. Lennon’s eyes flashed over to me and narrowed in; clearly knowing something was up. As she raised her eyebrows in expectance I squeezed my eyes shut and rushed out my words, “I may have kinda told e’ryone tah stay away from ya.”

Her eyes widened a bit as her eyebrows went even higher. She slowly opened her mouth and I was fully expecting her to yell at me, but she quickly shut it. Then she let out a puff of air, licked her lips, and said, “S’not what I was expecting to hear, but a’right.”

“A’right?” I parroted.

“A’right,” she repeated with a confused nod. “Is it not a’right that it’s a’right?”

“No, no, no,” I swiftly shook my head, “S’fine. I just thought you’d be angry. Why aren’t you angry?”

She shrugged her shoulders as she stepped around a puddle and looked back over to me. “I guess it was kind of expected.” She gave me a half smile before she looked back down at the ground and spoke again, “Sure, it’s not the best. I was starting to _kinda_ get along with those twits. Hell, I even had this really bizarre heart-to-heart with Zayn at three this morning. But I guess I get it.”

“You _what_?” I deadpanned.

But she completely brushed off my question. “Why, though? How come they’ve got to leave me be?” she asked.

“I just think it’d be easier to get ya back on track if they aren’t pesterin’ ya,” I honestly answered. “‘Specially Harry. If you two grind each other’s gears _that_ much- it won’t help ya at all.”

“Right,” she whispered and nodded her head. “I guess tha’s alright. But are you serious about it this time? About helpin’ me?”

“I am,” I spoke clearly. And I was being truthful about that. I really have been a shit brother these past two months, but now I’m determined to be the big brother that Lennon needs.

“Okay, I’ve got another question for ya then,” she spoke as we rounded a corner that led towards some shops.

“Shoot.”

“If you’ve been so concerned about Harry this entire time, why’d ya let him come after me last night on the bus? Why not you? Or one of the others?”

“He’d had a bird over the night before, so I knew he wouldn’t try anythin’. He may be all over girls most of the time, but he’d never go for two different ones in the same day,” I spoke easily. “And if he had gone after you like _that_ , I would’ve killed him, and he knows it.”

Lennon shook her head at me and looped her arm through mine. “At least you’re actin’ like a big brother should these days. I’ve missed it.”

I smiled at her and squeezed her arm. “Oh, one other thing.”

“And that is?”

Just do it, Niall. Just do it. Like you told yourself before: just rip it off like a plaster.

“We’re meeting Simon in California, our next stop, and he’d like to have a word with you,” I carefully spoke. Lennon stopped dead in her tracks and dropped my arm, all the while giving me the world’s biggest glare.

“WHAT?”

“S’just that there’s been som-”

“Uh uh,” she interjected. “You know how much I don’t like him. I’m not going. No way. No how.”

Well, fuck.

I knew this would happen. I _really_ did. But I thought, ‘Hey, I’ll tell her ‘bout the lads and then mention this tiny detail about Simon and she’ll brush it off. She won’t give a fuck.’

Oh, how I was wrong.

“Just do it! For me?” I felt like a scummy door-to-door salesman with this shit pitch. But what else was I supposed to do? She had to agree to go to this meeting. She absolutely had to.

Lennon scoffed, ran a hand through her waves, and pulled her beanie down in frustration. “You’re killin’ me! Ya know that?!” she yelled, waving her hands about like a maniac. “You’ve really outdone yourself. Bravo,” she sarcastically clapped.

I groaned, “I thought this would be a bit easier,” as I pulled on my hair.

“S’life; lower your expectations, mate,” Lennon remarked cheekily.

I scowled at her as we walked into a small coffee shoppe, “Can’t ya just ever do things for other people?”

She let out a resentful laugh, “Comin’ from Mr. I’m-too-good-for-everyone-else-because-I’m-a-big-bad-popstar. Oh, that’s rich.”

“I’ve never said that!” I quietly cried out, not wanting to draw attention to us. “Could you just agree to this so I don’t have to beg and grovel?”

“I don’t know,” Lennon pondered, “I’d quite like to see that.”

“LENNON!”

“Fine, fine, fine. I’ll go see the almighty UC,” she gave in with a roll of her eyes.

“UC?”

“Don’t worry about it. I agreed, didn’t I?” she harshly commented.

“Yeah, I s’pose you did.”

Two of two tasks complete. Now for them to follow through...

And actually go as planned.


	20. Here I Am

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Recommended Listening: Matchbox Twenty - Push

Niall

 

Ever since I told Lennon about that meeting with Simon, I’ve felt considerably lighter. Like a weight that has been sitting on my shoulders for a week has been lifted.

It really was a miracle that she agreed to go without _much_ of a fight- I’d thought for sure that I’d have to forcibly drag her into his office. Fortunately for me, most things considering Lennon have seemingly been getting easier. I don’t know if that’s because they really are, or because I’m being naïve; but I’m going to go with the former.

Though things have been getting easier with her, things with the lads have become more... awkward? Especially since yesterday, when I told them to stay away from her. They weren’t mad, per se, just thrown.

In fact, I hadn’t spoken to any of the boys since then. I’d gotten up a bit early today to head out for breakfast alone- to have some time to think things over. It was nearing 1 p.m. when I returned to the hotel; just enough time to grab my things and head down to the venue with the rest of the lot.

“Mate, there you are!” Zayn spoke exasperatedly as I walked through the door. He slung a bag over his shoulder and adjusted his jacket before asking, “Where were you?”

“Went for a bite. Just needed some time to think,” I shrugged. He nodded, thrusted a bag into my hands, and threw a jacket on top of it. “Have you seen Lennon?” I asked as I dropped the bag and slipped on the jacket.

Zayn ceased all movement and turned to face me. “No. We aren’t _allowed_ to, _remember_?” I winced at his harsh tone; though I knew it wasn’t designed to hurt me, rather, to express his indignation.

I let out a sigh and nodded. “Sorry,” I sheepishly spoke. “You know I’m just tryin’ to do what’s right. As soon as some progress is made, I promise, things will go back to normal.”

He rubbed a hand over his tired eyes. “Yeah, I get it. Just a bit irked since she was _finally_ getting along with us all. Well, usually.” He gave me a small smile, “It’s been nice getting to know her. She’s great.”

“Yeah,” I concurred, “She is.”

Zayn paused for a moment and then gave me one strong nod. He slapped his hands onto his thighs and gave a quick look over his shoulder back into the suite. “We’re leaving in five. I’ll get the rest of the lads, you get Lennon,” Zayn quickly spoke and I nodded in response- making my way towards Lennon’s room.

“Lennon?” I called as I knocked on her door.

No response.

I knocked again and called for her a bit louder.

When I was met with silence once I again, I hurriedly opened the door and was not met with an irritated Lennon like I had presumed. Instead, there was a messy, unmade, empty bed.

I dropped the bag off my shoulder and rushed to the en suite and quickly pounded my fist on the door. “Lennon, are you in there?!” I yelped. When I once again heard no response, I flung the door open and checked all the crevices and corners before deeming that she was, in fact, not in there.

I stumbled back into the room and looked frantically through the drawers, under the bed, and between the sheets for any sign of her. My breath picked up its pace each time a new spot held none of her stuff.

My hands instinctively moved up to my hair, tugging and pulling it in every direction as I let out a deep breath. “Z-Zayn!” I called out, hoping with everything in me that he had been lying earlier when he said he hadn’t seen Lennon. “ZAYN!” I screamed as I entered the common area once again.

He came flying around the corner with a worried expression on his face. “What? What is it, Niall?” he asked desperately.

“Lennon,” my voice cracked, “Her things- she’s not here.”

“Are you sure? Like, absolutely positive?” he questioned as his limbs hung loosely around his frame.

“FUCK! OF COURSE I’M SURE!” I yelled, causing the rest of the lads to mill into the room.

“What’s going on?” Liam asked.

Zayn bit his lip and slowly turned to face him. “Have any of you seen Lennon?”

The three of them slowly shook there heads. “Why? Is she not- not here?” Louis asked tentatively.

“No,” I choked out, my voice faltering. My hands rubbed over my face as I inhaled deeply; attempting to steady my uneven breath. “H-how could I have let this happen?!”

“Why don’t we go down to the lobby and find Paul. Maybe he’s seen her,” Harry spoke, his voice concerned, yet even. I nodded and without a second thought, rushed out of the room and down six flights of stairs- not even bothering to wait for the lift.

As I ran down the last flight and through the lobby doors, my eyes connected with Paul’s. He must’ve noticed I was in distress and met me half way, grabbing my shoulders to hold me still as my ragged breathing caught in my throat. “Lennon,” I gasped, “Have you seen her?”

Paul’s eyes widened as he heard the desperation in my voice. “No, I haven’t. She’s not in the room?”

“No!” I exclaimed.

Paul ran a hand through his hair and said, “Alright. Calm down. Did you give her a ring yet?” My brows furrowed together as I shook my head. “Okay. I’ll give her a ring, why don’t you lads head over to the venue, yeah?”

“B-but,” I stuttered. “What if something’s happened?!”

He let out a heavy sigh as he studied my face and then each of the other lads. “I’ll call her now. Let’s just see what happens and we’ll go from there.” I gave him a weak nod as he grabbed his mobile out of his pocket; my mind racing with dwindling thoughts about my baby sister.

It seemed like ages that the phone was ringing, but my heart jumped out of my chest when I heard Paul speak. “Lennon! Are ya a’right?”

There was a look of relief on his face as he received an answer, but my better mood was replaced with anger when I realized she was completely fine. “Give it here,” I told Paul with my hand out stretched. Once the mobile was in my grasp, a million thoughts were voiced. “Where are you? Are you okay? What the fuck were you thinking? Do I need to be worried right now?”

I heard Lennon sigh on the other end of the phone, “I went to get somethin’ to eat. I’m fine. I needed some time to think. No, ya do not need to worry.”

“Why didn’t you tell someone?!” I chided her over the phone. This girl is honestly looking for me to have a heart attack.

“I’m not allowed to. _Remember_?” she condescendingly spoke, eerily reminding me of how Zayn sounded only minutes earlier.

I let out a heavy sigh, “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” she drawled.

“I’m coming to get you. Where are you?”

“No,” Lennon demanded. “Go get ready for the show. I’ll be there- in one piece. Just go.”

I quickly glanced at the rest of the lads who had expectant looks on their faces, bags tightly gripped in anticipation. “Fine. But I’m having Paul come get you. I don’t need you walking around Seattle by yourself, you’ll only get yourself into _more_ trouble.”

“You really don’t trust me enough to get myself there?”

I almost laughed. “No! Now I’m giving Paul his phone and I want you to tell him exactly where you are. I want you at the venue in no less than two hours; so whatever you need to ‘think about’- have it sorted before then. A’right?”

“Alright, alright! No need to be snippy!” she shot back.

As I handed Paul his mobile back, I couldn’t help but think that this was one of the biggest mistakes I could ever make.

# +

Lennon

 

As soon as I hung up the phone with Paul I let out an irritated sigh. I really can’t believe that Niall doesn’t trust me. Well, I guess I can- for certain reasons. But it’s surprising that he doesn’t trust me enough to be on my own. Actually, it’s highly obnoxious.

All I wanted was an hour or two to myself; he went off on his own this morning, how is fair that I can’t?! He’s a walking hypocrisy!

“Lenny!” Paul boomed as he entered the hotel restaurant- snapping me out of my angry reverie.

“Hey Paul,” I waved. As he sat at the table across from me I asked, “Am I as good as dead?”

“Right you are,” he nodded. “But I wouldn’t worry too much. I think Niall was just a bit shaken up. You really gave him a scare, ya know.”

I waved his comment away, “S’not like I could’ve gotten anywhere- I haven’t got _any_ money. Though, I s’ppose I could’ve sold my body on the streets.”

Paul chuckled at my shitty joke with a slight shake of his head. “So what made ya come down here anyway? We could’ve stopped somewhere for ya.”

“Like I told Niall- I just needed a breather. Some time to myself, ya know?” I said with a half smile. “S’all a bit hectic with those idiots.”

Paul let out a bark of laughter, “I couldn’t have said it better myself.” He proceeded to grab half of my club sandwich and took a huge bite, “S’delicious, thanks!”

I shook my head at his actions, laughing silently before saying, “No problem at all,” and taking a swig of my drink. As the familiar liquid slid down my throat, I felt myself ease up a bit.

“S’not water, is it,” Paul spoke with certainty. As I glanced at his smug face I shook my head. “I won’t tell, but why? Niall said he was gonna get you on track; why give in so soon? Why do you find solace at the bottom of a bottle?”

I chewed on my lower lip in thought for a moment, and when I ‘figured out’ why I was sabotaging myself- I spoke up. “Why not?” Paul shot me a warning look and I reevaluated my answer. “I’m not too sure. But one thing I do know is that, _right now_ , I don’t I want to be done with it all. I like who I am and what I do. Besides, I feel like it will never really work unless I want it to.” After a quick shrug, I downed the rest of my drink and took the final bite of my sandwich; dusting my hands off and reaching to the ground for my packed bag. “Niall doesn’t need to know, though. So this is staying between us, right?”

“Yeah,” Paul spoke with his eyes closed, “Between us.”

# +

When Paul and I finally got to the venue, I kept to myself- immediately finding a small, abandoned room to take a break (yet again) from the chaos. Unfortunately for me, Niall was apparently very adamant on ‘speaking’ to me. So when he burst into the room with an angry look on his face, I wasn’t at all surprised.

He had hardly walked through the door before shouting, “WHAT THE FUCK WERE YOU THINKING?!” I opened my mouth to respond, but was cut off by his bitter laugh, “Never mind. I know _for a fact_ that you weren’t. You never think about anythin’ you do, do you? I had half a mind to call mum about this! She would’ve gone apeshit!”  
“Well, I’m here! I’m fine! I’m still alive and kicking!” I sneered back. He shook his head in disappointment and sat on the sofa next to me, his head in his hands. When I finally saw all the worry and anguish in his eyes, I felt- I felt _terrible_. I am a terrible human being. “Are you still mad at me?” I carefully asked.

Without even giving me a glance, Niall answered, “No.”

“Are you sure?”

“I was never mad at you.”

“What were you?”

With a sigh, he said, “Hurt.”

“The last thing I want to do is hurt you, Niall,” I told him while I nudged his shoulder. He looked over to me and I joked, “But it’s still on my list.”

He shook his head in bewilderment, “That’s not funny, Lennon.”

“Fair enough,” I admitted with my hands in the air.

Niall gave me one of his crooked smiles and grabbed my hand, squeezing it tightly. “Ya know, it is perfectly okay to admit you’re not okay.”

“Really, I’m fine. No need to worry ‘bout little, ole Lennon,” I assured him. His head dropped again and he let go of my hand.

“Is this going to last?” He asked. As I gave him a confused expression, he reworded he question, “I mean, you getting clean, and us talking?”

I shrugged my shoulders in response. “I honestly don’t know. Usually I don’t think anything really lasts. Coffee cools, cigarettes end, music stops- and life simply goes on. Who knows if _this_ will last.”

“Okay,” he spoke, “But just remember that you’re never gonna know if you never even try.”

# +

Louis

 

The steady beat of the rain continuously hit the window as we waited patiently for Niall to return back from his ‘chat’ with Lennon. To be honest, we were all a bit shaken this afternoon by her little stunt. Not nearly as much as Niall, but we were worried; she’s become a part of our family- something bad happening to her would definitely affect us.

At first we thought she’d left because she’d had enough of all of this- of us and us trying to help her out. But our hunches soon turned to her distaste for Simon and not wanting to go see him, and rather returning home- however she could have.

“At least she’s alright, though,” Liam calmly spoke. “The rest of it doesn’t matter.”

I hummed in agreement, but was still wondering over why she had skipped out in the first place. But I doubt that we’ll ever get a straight answer from her.

As if on cue, Niall and Lennon came traipsing through the door; unreadable expressions on their faces. We all jumped up from our spots about the room and rushed over to them; embracing Lennon tightly, probably much to Niall’s displeasure.

“Where were you?” I asked hurriedly, adamant on knowing at least _some_ of the information.

Lennon shrugged, “Around.”

“Doing what?” Zayn asked.

“Stuff,” she allusively replied.

“You Horans always beat around the bush, don’t you?” Harry asked with a smirk on his face. “Why is that?” Lennon shrugged her shoulders once more and we all groaned.

“If you’re not getting answers, ask better questions,” she replied in a singsong voice as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. Lennon broke away from us and made her way to the mini refrigerator in the room; rummaging around for a few moments before she pulled out of bottle of liquor.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Niall began to protest, but Lennon shot him a look that shut him up. Grabbing five shot glasses, Lennon spoke, “He sat in on countless legendary recordings. He was Sinatra’s right hand man. Playing with some of the biggest names in rock and roll. He was there at CBGB’s in ’77. Sunset strip in ’81. He’s been on tour since 1866, and he’s still going strong today. His name is Jack.” After filling the shot glasses she turned to us, a smile on her delicate face, “Now, if you lot are resolved on making me clean up my act- you need to do this one thing for me.”

“And that is...?” Niall asked.

“Take these shots and go have a fuckin' sick show. I need to live vicariously through you twats.” As realization hit her, she grimaced, “Fuck. I’m relying on _you_ twats.” With a sigh she urged us to come over, “So just do it, a’right?”

I didn’t need to be told twice and quickly downed a shot, waiting patiently for the others to follow suit. “Hit me!” I hollered, thrusting the glass to Lennon again for her to fill.

“Four max,” she warned us. “Don’t want all yer little fans to be on a hunt for my head to hang over their mantle because _their_ precious little boyband was intoxicated on stage.”

“I dunno,” Zayn lilted, “Maybe we should just finish it so you aren’t tempted to drink any yourself.”

My eyes shot to Niall as Zayn spoke these words. Though instead of glaring at Zayn, Niall was trained on Lennon- attempting to gauge her reaction. “No need,” Lennon sweetly spoke. She dug around in her bag and pulled out a sharpie, “I’ll just mark where you lot left off. You can _trust_ me.”

“You know,” Harry joked, “It’s great that you’re so open with your bitterness.”

Lennon smirked a bit, but kept her eyes locked with Niall’s- as if she was testing him, waiting to see what he would say in return. When he only sighed, she dropped the smirk, “Sorry I’m so hard to deal with sometimes.”

Niall laughed bitterly, ignoring her self-admitted faults, “Trusting you is something I’m not sure I can ever do at this point.” As soon as these words left his mouth, the whole aura of the room turned a bit dark. No one made any movements or any sounds- just waited to see what would happen between the two.

Lennon slowly nodded her head after what seemed to be eons. “For what it’s worth- I’m trying. I swear I’m trying.” The room stilled again; the silence deafening. Niall made no moves in response and Lennon scoffed in indignation. “Do you want to know a little something?” Lennon spoke with daggers.

“What?” Niall curtly responded to her rhetorical question.

“A few years ago I wrote you this letter,” she spoke quietly. “Well, it wasn’t much of a letter. More like a piece of notebook paper that had ‘Congrats on being such an arsehole!’ sarcastically written on it in sharpie,” she continued, her voice gaining more confidence. “I was gonna send it to ya, but didn’t have your address. Didn’t want to bother mum or dad for it either- they would’ve just asked questions about me speaking to you again, which _clearly_ wasn’t the case.”

Niall had a sickeningly irritated look on his face and went to open his mouth, but Lennon held her hand up. “It’s funny that I thought we were actually on a good page right now. _Especially_ after everything that _hasn’t_ happened between us in the past four years. Maybe I was being naïve,” she shrugged, “Or maybe you had just fooled me into believing that you weren’t the same shitty ponce from four years ago. Either way, shame on me. Shame on me for thinking you _actually_ cared- even for a split second.”

And with that, Lennon grabbed the bottle of Jack and left the room- making sure to slam the door on her way out. I instinctively moved towards the door; needing to comfort her as if she was one of my own sisters. But I was halted as I heard Niall speak with such venom and disgust- something that was very uncharacteristic for him. “Do not walk out that door to go find _her_. I swear to God, do not.”

# +

Our show- well, our show was definitely not like _any_ of our other ones. We hardly joked around or felt at ease. Rather, we were all rigid and felt a bit isolated; not wanting to push a certain someone further towards the edge. Not to mention that when Zayn, Harry, Liam, and I shared worried glances, most of them were over Lennon. She had disappeared several hours before the show and Niall was so- so... _vexed_ , that we didn’t even dare to go look for her.

I knew full and well that she had most likely gone off to some abandoned room, far away from everyone, to drown her anger in alcohol. And that reason alone was why the four non-Horans devised a plan as soon as the show was over.

Zayn and Liam were off to talk Niall down, since they were the ones he listened to the most, and Harry and I were off to find Lennon.

We searched room after room down each and every hall that this _massive_ venue had. And each time we turned to an empty room, I got more and more worried. What if she had gone off again? This time we’d have no way of finding her- she would’ve definitely turned her phone off and not given a second thought to it.

“What if she left?” Harry voiced my thoughts as we exited another empty room on the upper level.

“Well, let’s just hope she didn’t and keep looking, yeah?” He nodded and we continued on through the hall; each room empty. That only leaves the basement. I smacked my face at our idiocy and grabbed Harry’s arm, fervently pulling him to the stairs.

“Where are we going now?” he yelped as we ran.

“Basement. I can’t believe we didn’t think of this sooner!”

 

Lennon

 

I heard pounding coming down the stairs and I rolled my head back, groaning in frustration. As the stomps came closer, I screwed my eyes shut and hoped to God that it wasn’t Niall; I just couldn’t take anymore of him.

“Lennon, there you are!” a disgustingly fake cheery voice came from the stairwell. I lazily turned my head when I realized the voice wasn’t Irish and popped one of my eyes open. Though it wasn’t Niall or Paul, Harry and Louis weren’t exactly people I wanted to see, either.

“Here I am,” I unwillingly slurred. They looked absolutely beat; sweaty and out of breath. I wondered if their show had just ended. But when Harry said, ‘We’ve been looking for you everywhere!’, I knew that wasn’t the case.

They dropped down on the dusty, old sofa on either side of me; each slinging an arm around my shoulders. “What’s up?” Louis asked brightly, “What have you done to better humanity today?”

“I’ve reduced the amount of alcohol,” I returned while eyeing the bottle in my hand, continuing on with his joke. He gave me a funny look, and I spoke in a reassuring tone, “Don’t worry, the world’s still the same. There’s just... less in it.”

“How about I just take that,” Harry drawled as he slowly loosened my grip from the bottle and set it beside him. “There, much better.”

“What do you two want?” I asked with narrowed eyes. “I could’ve put money on Niall being a prat and telling you _again_ to stay away from me.”

“How much would you have bet, love?” Louis asked.

“Everything I had,” I spoke with furrowed brows. I began to count on my fingers, “So that would be a couple thousand pounds.”

“Well, you would’ve doubled your savings, that’s for sure,” he smiled.

I chuckled, “So you two gits are down here, knowing full and well that he’ll rip you a new one later?”

Harry grimaced, “Thanks for the mental image, but, yes. We were worried about you- we all were.” I rolled my eyes and let my head loll back against the back of the couch. “Why don’t you seem more worried about getting things back on the right track with him?”

“It’s been like this since we were young; we fight and then make up.”

“But the last time things, and I’m just guessing here, got this bad- you two didn’t speak for four years... and only did when you were forced to _live_ together,” Louis reasoned, shaking my shoulders to catch my attention.

“So?”

“Sooo,” Harry drawled, picking up where Louis left off, “He’s just trying to help you get better. Every time you two take a step forward, it’s like you take _five_ steps back. Why is that?”

“I just don’t want to get ‘better’,” I spoke with indignation. “The angel on my shoulder has obviously taken a leave of absence.” As soon as my thoughts were voiced, my mobile began to ring. I silently thanked whoever was interrupting for doing so and fished around in my bag for it, letting out a victorious ‘Ah hah!’ when I retrieved it.

“Who’s that?” Louis asked curiously as he leaned over my shoulder for a better look.

I scrunched up my nose and pushed him away. “Rosie.”

“Put it on speaker!” Harry shouted; right in my ear, may I mention.

I grumbled a ‘fine’, and did as I was told. “Hey Rosie!” I said, trying my best to sound cheery.

“Lennon? Is that you? Do I have the right number?” she asked in disbelief.

“Yeah, why wouldn’t it be me?”

“You sound... _cheery_ ,” she spoke skeptically. “Is someone holding you against your will? Should I call the police?”

“Oh, please do!” I nodded enthusiastically even though she couldn’t see me. “I’ve got two twats here that I could really use a break from.”

“Hey!” the twats shouted in unison.

“Twats you say?” Rosie hummed, “Which ones are they, then?”

“Curls and Fancy.”

“Hey!” they chorused again.

“Oh, then I’ll _definitely_ ring the police for you,” she joked.

“Bless you, bless you to bits!” I exclaimed, earning a glower from Curls and Fancy.

“But really, why do you sound so... off?” Rosie pressed. I could practically see her; furrowing her brows in confusion, her hand ruffling her hair. “Am I being Punk’d again?”

“No,” I answered simply, “So don’t go riflin’ through your room in search of Ashton Kutcher again, please. I don’t think I can handle that _twice_.”

“Oh, _ha ha_ ,” Rosie sneered. “What’s up then? The good mood? Please explain.”

“I’m clean,” I lied in a serious tone, catching an odd look from the lads on my sides.

“Very funny.” When I didn’t respond, Rosie asked, “Are you being serious? Or is this some Lennon sound-alike that is trickin’ me? Are you dead? Am I bein’ called by a ghost? Has hell frozen over?”

“It’s none of that. I’ve just got morals now. I morally couldn’t do it,” I said, trying to keep myself from laughing as best as I could. With that comment Rosie was in stitches- I’m sure she was doubled over in laughter, her eyes squeezed tightly shut, and gasping for air.

“Morally. You... morally,” she spluttered, gasping for air in an attempt to calm herself down.

“I may have done some bad things in the past, Rose, but I will never touch a drop of alcohol or any drug ever again.”

Her laughter continued and slowly tapered off enough for her to put on a serious tone, probably putting two and two together and realizing I was joking. “Okay, Ms. Righteous, I was wrong.”

I smirked as I watched the lads silently fight over the half gallon of Jack. “What is it that you wanted, then?”

“Just wanted to check up on you, it’s been ages!”

“Rosie,” I warned, “You know it’s not right to lie.”

“Fine!” she gave in. “Just wanted to rub it in your face a bit that I’ve officially gotten over whatever that horrid dry spell was. That guy at the pub- Declan, his name is- has been climbing this fine arse tree for a few weeks now.”

Well, that definitely caught the attention of the lads. “One guy? Say it ain’t so!” I cried in mockery.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Have your fun. But I’ve gotten some and you haven’t!”

“Not true!” I informed her, “Just the other day I had the best shag of my life!”

We rattled on about whateverthefuck for a bit more, and I kept receiving odd glares from Harry and thumbs-ups from Louis- ultimately encouraging me to end the conversation with Rosie.

“Who pissed in your cereal this mornin’?” I asked Harry.

“No one,” he grumbled. “Since you seem to be in _such_ a better mood, why don’t we head back to the bus. We’ve got a bit of a trip ahead of us. Not to mention, _your_ meeting with Simon.”

I shot him a glare in return and Louis sucked in a sharp breath of disapproval. “Wrong thing to say, mate.”

Oh, yes, Louis- how right you are. That was a very, very wrong thing to say. First Niall, then Simon. When one thing falls, the rest goes with it.

And I’m sure after the landslide with Simon, Niall will only hate me more.


	21. You've Gotten What You Wanted

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Recommended Listening: Ida Maria - Oh My God

The ride to California was... _interesting_ to say the least. Actually, I suppose a better word would be agonizing. You know, great physical and mental pain caused by something. In this case, that something was _Louis_. I swear, that boy has no brain. And if he does it is at the very least a pea-sized brain.

You see, instead of sleeping like a _normal_ human being, Louis insists on flapping his jaw through all hours of the night. It’s ridiculous, if you ask me- especially the topics of which he chooses to speak. Things like food (only made me hungry), shoes (why?), socks (again, what?), mythical creatures (at this point I seriously began to wonder if he was dropped as a baby), and pondering the meaning of life (let’s not even go there). But the one thing he said that really set me off- it wasn’t even a controversial topic that would produce valid anger, I was just beyond tired and annoyed at that point- was when he asked, “Do you think pigeons have feelings?”

WHAT.

THE.

FUCK.

So, without even missing a beat, I snapped, “I’m going to give you one more chance to shut the fuck up.” When that had effectively shut him up, I smiled triumphantly and got some much needed sleep.

I was awoken when we finally arrived to the hotel by Zayn; an apologetic look on his face. As I sleepily stumbled out of the bus and towards the promising bed inside, he informed me that Niall said to ‘dress professionally, which means no jeans or boots’. I rolled my eyes at that and Zayn chuckled to himself, probably amused by my distaste for ‘proper’ clothing. Though that was true, my eye roll was more towards Niall. We hadn’t spoken since we had our little quarrel the afternoon before and I was less than thrilled to learn that he couldn’t even boss up and face me himself, rather, he sent a _messenger_ to me.

Ridiculous.

Much to my surprise (and pleasure), I had gotten my own room again (Can I get an amen?!). Paul told me that it was because the suites at this hotel were smaller, but I suspected (read: very well knew) that it was because Niall was angry with me. Though, with these perks, I didn’t really care about what terms I was on with my brother. Hell, one might even see them as an incentive for bad behavior.

I had barely even an hour to take a much needed (and deserved) shower, dress appropriately, and make my way towards the rental van before my meeting with the almighty UC. I sat up front with Paul (on what should be the driver’s side- bloody Americans) tugging and scratching at my uncomfortable blazer and heels, while the nitwits of FF sprawled about the back. Every so often I had looked back in the rearview mirror either to have my gaze returned by a pissy brother, or a concerned boyband member. Either way, each time I looked back, I wished it was something else.

Don’t get me wrong, FF isn’t _all_ bad, and Fucker- well, Fucker is certainly a piece of work; but I have found myself wishing to be back home with Rosie or off in London with Flynn. Hell, I’d even take the godawful cronies that I associated with from Mullingar. _Anything_ from back home sounded exceptionally pleasant these days.

But, I suppose, there wasn’t anything I could do about it now.

Paul had dropped us off, claiming that he had ‘things to take care of’, but I knew that he needed a break from the lot of us. Though, I don’t blame him- we are a bit much to handle. So, without a buddy, I begrudgingly followed FF into UC’s lair; the clicking and clacking of my heels annoying me to no end. As the five of them went to greet the receptionist, whose nameplate read Shauna, I took a seat in the far corner on an uncomfortably modern chair.

And I believe that brings us up to speed.

The lads sat in the chairs around me, speaking idly in hushed tones; careful not to disturb any of the others in the office. I made sure not to make eye contact with them and instead trained my eyes on the walls around me. Brightly coloured modern art adorned the walls, along with intricate sculptures on the side tables. The soft hum of a familiar song played in the background and the ticking of the clock on the far wall was overpowering; making me cringe each time it ticked.

In what seemed like no time, Shauna came out from behind her appropriately cohesive desk and spoke softly, “Mr. Cowell will see you now.” After speaking, a delicate and sweet smile broke out onto her face and she swept her honey coloured hair around her shoulder. I was a bit thrown; for the first time I actually appreciated someone’s _pleasant_ attitude, and found myself slightly wishing that one day I wouldn’t be a bitter bitch.

The boys stood up and began to make the familiar trek into UC’s dungeon, but were soon halted. “Oh, my mistake,” Shauna spoke sheepishly. “Mr. Cowell would like to speak to Lennon alone.” I could feel myself blanch and my brows furrow together in confusion, preparing myself to have a Rosie moment. You know- fully expecting Ashton Kutcher to pop out from under a table and tell me that I’m being Punk’d. But, to no avail, Ashton was not there. “Right this way,” Shauna spoke sweetly as I clambered up out of the wretched chair and towards the back room.

I took a glance behind my shoulder, giving my best ‘What the fuck is going on?’ face to the boys. The four of them shrugged and Liam mouthed ‘Good luck’ before I stepped through the door. And as I sat down in what I deemed a much more luxurious chair, I couldn’t help but wonder why Niall hadn’t even given me any form of acknowledgement. Surely he knew that even a simple nod would have made me feel a little more at ease; after all, _he_ is the reason I’m in this position right now.

“Ah, Lennon,” UC spoke as he looked up from some papers, “Nice to see you again.”

I gave him a tight lipped smile and a lift of my eyebrows before I curtly muttered, “Likewise.” As he took a deep breath I scanned the room, taking in each of the platinum records and awards hung on the walls. “Holy shit!” I exclaimed when my eyes landed on one very particular image.

The almighty rolled his eyes, “What?”

I quickly scrambled out of the chair and over to the image by a ginormous bay window. “This!” I exclaimed and thrusted a finger towards the glorious pictured plastered to the wall.

UC looked over his shoulder and shook his head in amusement. “You a fan?”

“Oh, I don’t like the term ‘fan’,” I spoke honestly, “But with them- I had a great appreciation. Broke my inner little girl heart to hear that they had split.”

“It was a shame,” he agreed as he came to stand by me; looking at the image with his arms smugly crossed. “Westlife was some of my best work.”

“Wait,” I deadpanned. “Westlife is- they’re because of you? Of _you_?”

“Yes,” he nodded with a bewildered expression. “Why else would I have a plaque of them in my office?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” I waved my hand about, “Thought maybe you were a _fan_.” He chuckled at my words, taking a step back to get a better look at it. “You’ve officially been removed from my shit list,” I informed him with a smile.

“Shit list?” he spoke incredulously.

“Yeah, but no worries. Anyone associated with Westlife is a friend o’ mine!” I assured him.

He gave me a funny look, looked back to the plaque, and at me once more. I couldn't tell if he was trying to hold back a smile or a sassy remark. “Now,” UC spoke as he returned to his seat, “Let’s get back to why we’re here, yeah?”

I cocked my head to the side and walked back over to the desk. “Sure. But why are we here?” I asked as I slid into my seat.

“To discuss you,” Simon spoke bluntly. “It’s been called to my attention that you’ve been spotted several times at bars and clubs. More often than not, with boys.”

I gave him a odd look, “So? Yer not me father. What’s it tah you?”

He smirked, “You’re associating with my boys. My boys that have an image and a reputation to uphold.” He ran his tongue over his teeth as his eyes closed, his arms resting on the desk in front of him. “Look, you and I both know why you’re here, but the fans don’t. And I’m assuming that you don’t want them to, am I right?”

“Yes,” I evenly spoke, not sure as to where he was going with this.

“So here’s the thing; you need to clean up your act. The paparazzi have been having a field day with you and we just can’t afford that right now.”

“How would anyone know, from _just_ that information, that I’m the way I am?” I harshly spoke. “S’not like the lads hadn’t been to a bar or club before I came along. Why would it matter now? And, for the record, I’m not the one making them go there- they all willingly go.”

“It’s... _inferred_ from what they’ve seen from you, and from what they do know about you,” he answered simply.

“It’s not wise to judge others based on your preconceptions and by their appearances,” I sneered back. “Maybe you should teach all those little ‘fangirls’ that.”

“Maybe so," Simon said, "But I do have a question for you.” I nodded, waiting for him to go on. “Are you fraternizing with any of my boys?”

I stared at him for a moment before I bit my lip in an attempt to hold back laughter. It didn't work for long, and I laughed out loud at his preposterous question. “Don’t worry, Simon, they’re all irritating and I’m irritable. We’d never mix.”

A look of relief washed over him and he relaxed in his seat. “Good. One more question, then.” I again nodded, waiting for whatever absurd question he was about to fire at me. “What are you going to do with yourself?”

I pondered his question for a moment. Because honestly, what the fuck does that mean? _What am I going to do with myself_? How the fuck should I know? I don't even know when my next meal is going to be!

“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe I can write a book titled _The Life of a Teenage Fuck-Up_ : A Novel By Lennon Horan. Oh! And I can write a follow up tell-all of One Direction.” I gave him a smirk and he looked less than enthused.

“And what are you going to do to ensure that the fans don’t find out about your little secret?” I shrugged my shoulders, not really caring at the moment. “Right. You better hope to your lucky stars that they don’t find out,” he said coldly.

“Oh,” I laughed, “I’ve got something _much_ better than lucky stars.” UC sent me another glare and spoke into his intercom, urging Shauna to get the boys in here before he ‘does something rash’. But before they could get in there and before Simon hated me for life, I quickly added, “In our previous brief conversations I’d decided that you had a huge stick shoved up your arse, and you decided that I needed to take a good dose of ‘real problems’ and ‘the real world’, am I right?” He nodded his head, obviously not sure of where I was going with this. “It's clear that we don't like each other but, well,” I sighed, “Let’s put all that shit behind us- for Niall’s sake. Hell, for the sake of your precious little band.”

Simon cracked a smile and nodded, “Sounds good to me. But, Lennon, I do hope that you get this all worked out- for many reasons. And I hope it is before something terrible happens. I can’t quite have a worldwide successful boyband if one of them is constantly worried over his sister, now can I?”

“No,” I sighed, slumping back in my seat, “I s’ppose not.” I heard the door creak open and Simon’s smile faded as quickly as it came. He hopped up from his seat and told the lads that he had a meeting to get to, but that he’d call them before they left town to fill them in on some plans. With a nod and a ‘good to see you again’, he left, leaving me alone with the twits of FF.

“You two seemed to be getting awfully chummy. Something we should know about?” Louis quipped as he sauntered over to Simon's chair and plopping down.

“Yes,” I shot back quickly, leaning forward to rest my elbows on the desk, “I was only usin’ you lot to get to Simon.”

“What?” Zayn asked in disbelief. “Did I hear that right?”

“Oh, yes,” I nodded enthusiastically. “I’ve been usin’ you in hopes that one day you’d introduce me to the glorious Simon Cowell so I could seduce him and live a life of luxury.”

“Ew,” Liam shuddered, stepping away from me slightly. “You’ve got terrible taste. Even Harry would be an improvement.”

I shrugged. “Harry doesn’t have as much money. And I’m sure Simon is much more... _capable_ of pleasin’ the ladies, if you know what I mean,” I quipped with a wiggle of my brows.

“Why is everyone ganging up on me?” Harry cried, a pouty look on his face. I shrugged my shoulders in response and turned my attention to Niall, who had been silent through the whole discussion.

“What do ya think, Niall?” I asked tentatively, not sure if he’d blow up on the spot because I spoke to him.

“I jus’ can’t believe Simon actually smiled at _you_ ; completely charmed and just- how? How does that even happen? You two detested each other not even an hour ago and now you’re all smiles and ‘Off you go’s’. I’m just so confused,” he shook his head in astonishment.

“Well,” I lilted, “Some people find me pleasant.”

He snorted, “Pleasant- that’s a good one.”

I gave him a scowl and quickly and quietly told him, “Simon gave me an earful already, no need to do it again.”

# +

The limited conversation Niall and I shared in Simon’s office were the only words we exchanged that afternoon. Though, it was better than nothing. I truly felt bad about our little argument, even though _I_ should have been the one that was angry. Nevertheless, we spoke, and as soon as what was needed to be said, was said- he briskly walked out the door and to the van.

The whole ride back to the hotel was silent- well, aside from Harry nagging Louis about the jibes made at him. It was quite amusing, if I’m being honest, but I kept a face of stone and tried my best to ignore them.

The next thing I knew, we were in the lift, taking a ridiculously long trip up to the twentieth floor. And it didn’t help that we were all stuffed into such close quarters, because ew- people, and uhg- I need my space. As I mentally groaned when we passed the tenth floor at an alarmingly slow rate, my mobile buzzed in my blazer pocket.

**From: Unknown Number**

**Don’t look so angry. You’re face might stick that way.**

My eyebrows immediately furrowed in response, glancing around the lift at all the lads. But as soon my eyes connected with Harry’s, I knew he was to blame.

**To: Curls**

**How did you get this number?**

I saw him smirk from the corner of my eye, hastily typing out a reply. Not even seconds later, I received a response. I questioned how the rest of the lads hadn’t noticed, but rolled my eyes once I remembered that they were daft twats.

**From: Curls**

**That’s not important. I have a question for you.**

**To: Curls**

**Shoot.**

The lift reached the fifteenth floor as I sent the message, and I wondered aloud, “Why do ya think it’s goin’ so slow?”

Liam grumbled in response, I think saying something about ‘lifts being deathtraps that don’t work properly’, but I’m not positive.

**From: Curls  
This needs to be spoken about in person.**

I looked over to him and was met with his eyes already trained on me. I gave him a skeptical look and rolled my eyes, thanking the lift gods that we _finally_ made it to our floor. I scurried out and towards my door, digging through my pockets as I went to find my key. I slid the key into the slot as quickly as possible, groaning each time I received a red light.

FF walked painfully slowly past me to their room, and once my lock flashed a green light, I threw the door open. But, unfortunately for me, I wasn’t quick enough; there was a speedy grab at my bum and I let out a bit of a squeal, whipping my head around in time to see Curls smirk at me. “Oi, Styles! Hands to yourself!” I hissed through gritted teeth.

He gave me a shrug and mouthed, ‘I’ll be over later,’ before turning around and slipping through his doorway with the rest of that bloody boyband.

# +

As soon as I shook my snarky thoughts about Curls away, I dove into my bag; reaching for leggings and a jumper. To say I was eager to get out of these confining clothes would be a _huge_ understatement. Heels and blazers were never my thing, I much preferred jeans and my trusty boots (something that irked my mum to no end).

I spent the next few hours with Rosie on the phone; asking her if she had seen me in any articles, and indeed, she has. After she told me about the countless photos and articles she’s seen, I chastised her over the phone, telling her that if I ever met Ashton Kutcher, ‘I’d do everything in my power to make sure she didn’t reap any of the benefits’. This was followed by a lengthy apology and a promise to alert me the moment she found something with my face plastered all over it, so long as I give Ashton her number if we ever cross paths. I agreed to her deal, and only hung up my mobile when I heard a hasty knock on my door.

With a groan, I rolled myself (quite literally) off my bed and towards the door; tugging my jumper closer to my chilled body. I moved at a turtle’s pace (again, literally) to the door, knowing very well who was behind it. And to be honest, I was quite concerned over what was going to be spewed from his mouth.

I threw open the door to be met with none other than Curls himself; a cheeky smile on his face, complete with dimples and all. I rolled my eyes, left the door open, and made a speedy return to the warm confines of the hotel bed. I heard Harry shuffle in behind me, carefully and quietly closing the door before making his way over and jumping on the bed- basically on top of me. I scowled at him as I gave him a shove, “What did you need, then?”

“I told you,” he drawled, “I needed to talk to you. Actually, it’s more of a question.”

I ignored his reasons for a moment as my brain clouded with questions. “How did you manage to get out of that room without anyone? And why the fuck are you dressed like that?” I asked as I gestured to his gym shorts and tight white t-shirt that hugged his body perfectly.

“I told them I was going to the gym,” he shrugged and pushed his curls off of his forehead.

“Don’t they expect you to be out of breath and all sweaty when you get back then?” I curiously asked as I pulled the sheets up to my chin.

Harry gave me a smirk and I immediately regretted my choice of words. “I was hoping you could help me with that,” he lowly spoke, wriggling his eyebrows up and down.

I scoffed, “You’re a pig, Styles.”

“Come on, it’ll be between you and me- our little secret,” he reasoned.

“Did you just quote one of your songs?”

“N- How do you know our songs?” he asked with a perplexed expression on his face.

With a roll of my eyes, I retorted, “I’ve only had to listen to them dozens of times.” Harry nodded his head in understanding and flicked his eyes over to the door, and then back to me. “So why are you here again?” I asked, trying to get this over with as quickly as possible.

“Right,” he nodded, “I’ve got a question for you.” I sat completely motionless aside from my eyebrows raising in expectation, not really wanting this to be some serious talk. He cleared his throat, “Well, you know what me and Louis were talking about in the van?”

“Yeah...” I answered slowly.

“And what you said in Simon’s office?” I nodded my head at his question, not knowing where the fuck he was going with this. “And back in Seattle in the basement of the venue when you were on the phone with Rosie? _Especially_ that one.”

“Yes? What are you gettin’ at?”

“I just wanted to tell you that you’re wrong,” he answered simply. I almost laughed at how farcical this was. I mean, really, why are we even having this conversation?

“And _why_ am I wrong?” I indignantly asked as I crossed my arms over my chest.

“Well,” he lilted, “Let’s just go through these one at a time, shall we?”

“Whatever,” I sighed.

With a smirk he readjusted his position on the bed so he was now facing me, no more than a foot away. “One; Louis assured me that Liam was right- I am a _much_ better improvement from Simon. Two; Simon may have more money, but I assure you- he definitely does _not_ have a better capability of ‘pleasing the ladies’. And three; What you said to Rosie on the phone- do you recall your words?”

“That Ashton Kutcher wasn’t hidin’ in her room?” I asked.

“No, no, no,” he shook his head with a laugh. “That you had the best shag of your life with that guy back in Denver.”

“What of it?”

“You were wrong. Well, he may have been the best shag you’ve had _so far_ , but he definitely isn’t the best you _could_ have.”

I ran a hand through my unruly waves, letting out a groan. “I’m so bloody confused! What the fuck are ya on about?!”

“I’m just saying,” his gravelly voice spoke as he leaned in closer; his curls tickling my face, “That you could have much better.”

My breath hitched in my throat and I jumped up from the bed, quickly making my way to the window and pinching my arm to make sure I wasn’t reliving a past dream (Yes, you heard that right. I had the misfortune of dreaming a similar scenario before that left me hot and bothered when I woke; leaving me with no other option than helping myself out.). I quickly spun around when I reached the window, beginning with a, “I don’t think tha-,” but stopping mid sentence when my body collided with Harry’s toned chest.

“What was that, love?” he smirked, placing each of his hands on either side of my head onto the glass.

I took a gulp, and with a very uncharacteristic stutter, finished my thought. “Th-that you thought this out. I mean, really, Harry.” I could feel him scooting closer, my breath shallowing, and his smirk growing all at once.

“Nah, I really think I have,” he smirked; his adorable dimples making their presence well known. His body neared mine, inch by inch; effectively trapping me in my place. He leaned down a bit as his raspy voiced whispered, “You can’t _honestly_ tell me that you haven’t thought about this.” My breath, once again, caught in my throat as his body pressed into mine.

 

Well, if that’s how this is going to be, then fine.

Two can play at this game.

 

I shook my head, “Can’t say that I have. But, I do know that _you_ have.” I pushed back into his body with my hips; his eyes widening momentarily. “And, for the record, I _highly_ doubt that you’d ever be able to surpass Greyson’s fuckin’ sensational skills in bed.”

“Oh, yes I can,” he stated smugly. I gave him a sarcastic shrug as my eyes squinted and my head tilted to the side. And that, ladies, is how you get Harry Styles riled up. “Why? What did he do that was _so_ great?” he snidely asked as his body shoved mine back up against the window.

“Oh,” I spoke casually, “He just _really_ knew how to tend to my needs.” Harry gave me an expression that dared me to elaborate; and me being me, I took that dare. “Greyson was extremely dominant; pushing me against walls, not being afraid to be rough with me, hitting every spot that needed to be hit,” I spoke euphorically, reminiscing on my tryst from the prior week.

Harry let out a deep chuckle, the reverberations from his chest rumbling into mine. “I could do so much better, _babe_.”

I narrowed my eyes at him because he knew full and well that I detested being called ‘babe’. “Listen here, bub,” I sneered while jabbing my finger into his rock-hard chest, “No one, and I mean _no one_ , calls me babe. Got it?”

He slowly took my finger in his abnormally large hand and tightly squeezed it, and with a smirk answered, “Got it.” His hips pressed into mine once more as he bent down so our eyes met. “But, really, I know you want this.”

I was about to protest, but his hips rolled into mine and damn- that boy knows how to use those things. I composed myself enough to make the snap decision to take my hands and place them firmly on his pecs; slowly (achingly slowly, I gathered from his expression) down to the waistband of his shorts where I took one finger and ran it across the top. Harry’s eyelids fluttered closed at the sensation; his bottom lip sucked in between his teeth. I leisurely trailed my finger down the front of his leg, stopping once I hit mid thigh.

I chuckled quietly to myself as his eyes snapped open, revealing a dark, lustful green at the lack of contact. “Oh, you’re going to pay for that,” Harry whispered darkly into my ear. Without missing a beat his hands traveled down my sides at a glacial speed; dipping between my thighs and rubbing small circles with his thumbs not _nearly_ close enough to the _right_ spot. At an agonizing pace, his hands worked their way up- only to be removed when they were mere millimeters from where they _needed_ to be. An involuntary whimper escaped my lips and I hoped to God that Harry hadn’t heard.

Unfortunately for me, I was alerted that he had heard by the cheeky, self-satisfied smirk on his face. “Now tell me that you don’t want this,” his deep voice quietly spoke.

I looked him dead in the eye and whispered, “I don’t want this.”

His stupid little smirk dropped and his eyes narrowed, “I don’t believe you.”

 

Well, at least I know that he can read people now. It was, I’m ashamed to admit, true. Harry Styles had officially gotten me hot and bothered and it wasn’t in a dream.

Hell must have frozen over.

But I wasn’t about to let him know that. Nope, not at all. This is going to be a slow and painful process for him.

I may be a bit cruel, what of it?

 

I shrugged my shoulders, “Not my fault that you just don’t have... _it_.”

“Oh, I don’t have _it_?” he bit back. “I’ve got quite the résumé that tells me differently.”

“Is that so?” I asked disinterestedly; trying my absolute best to ignore the fact that I was _still_ pinned between what is basically the body of a god and the window.

Determination filled his eyes as his lengthy body rocked into mine. “It is,” he rasped directly into my ear; minty breath invading my senses and chocolate curls gently brushing on my cheek.

His hands moved away from the glass and down the side of my face; cupping my cheeks as his face moved from my ear to directly in front of me. My breathing shallowed as he neared in, and all coherent thoughts flew out the window. It felt like everything was happening in slow motion- something I had _never_ experienced with another person; and at this point I’m not too sure what to make of it.

Harry’s lips finally met mine; molding together perfectly and slowly.

And there it was- the kiss of death.

I was literally kissing my life away. Niall would undoubtably find out, somehow. And when he did- he’d kill me. But right now, none of that seemed to matter.

 

Harry’s tongue grazed my bottom lip, and I immediately complied- allowing him to explore and work his magic. One hand traveled to the back of my neck; pulling me in closer (if that was even possible), while the other trailed to my hip; tightly grasping as if he was holding on for dear life.

Our lips broke apart and as I caught my breath he peppered kisses down my jawline and neck; nipping and sucking at arbitrary moments. Though, when he reached that _one_ spot- right between my neck and my collarbone- and I let out a moan, he broke away to look me in the eyes and give me a smirk. “Well, I think I made my point,” he spoke bluntly. My mouth dropped open in bewilderment; any logical sentence getting caught in my throat. I swear to God, I was ready to kill that boy. “Only joking,” he smirked, and returned his lips to mine.

I quickly broke away and gave him a slight push. “Fucking twat,” I murmured, still irritated over his audacity.

“Oh, c’mon, love, don’t be like that,” he whispered between kisses on my neck.

And I couldn’t help it (I swear to you, I tried my best to stand my ground), but I gave in once he (unfairly) tended to my sweet spot again. I grabbed him by his curls and dragged his lips over to mine, hungrily and forcefully kissing the living daylights out of that twat.

“Mmm,” he hummed, “Bed.” I didn’t even give a second thought to it as he turned me around and backed me into the bed. He roughly- yet carefully- pushed me back onto the mattress; standing back to let his eyes trace over me.

 

Some people might feel uncomfortable by something like that, but not me (we’ve discussed that I’m not like most people). It made me feel _desired_ , and in a way that I’ve never felt before.

He climbed onto the bed as I scooted back towards the pillows; a cheeky, omnipresent smile on his face. Harry quickly discarded his shirt, allowing me to marvel over his defined body adorned with peculiar tattoos, and it wasn’t long before he tugged my jumper off of me.

His left hand moved up to my breast; roughly massaging with a kiss here and there, while the other slid down my leggings; producing a gasp as his coarse fingers slid along me.

“Off,” I breathily spoke in regard to our trouser situation. Without needing to be told twice, Harry had removed his shorts, and when he looked back up his eyes widened.

“You don’t wear any knickers?”

“Too confining. Needed to let loose after today,” I shrugged, and in return Harry gave me a cheeky smile before catching my lips with his. The only things separating us now were his boxer briefs and my bra; but that wasn’t for long. He removed my black, lacy bra in one swift movement- never breaking our kiss. “Is that one on your résumé too?” I mumbled against his lips.

He chuckled, “Maybe,” before returning to our good ole snog; his hands running down my bare body- aimed straight for my aching nether region. His body pressed against my legs as his fingers worked their magic, his little buddy (which, isn’t little at all, by the feel of it) making itself known on my shin. I let out a moan of pleasure as his fingers traveled deeper and his thumb pressed sharply into my fun button, so to speak.

I could practically feel his ego radiating around us, but frankly, I didn’t give a flying fuck in space because I was too distracted. My lips parted to let out another yelp of ecstasy, but his thumb was ripped away and replaced by his tongue; a whole new sensation spreading through my body. “Harry,” I spoke through heavy breaths and gritted teeth, “Just fuck me already.”

His head snapped up and he inched up my body; stopping once our faces were even. “Have you got a rubber?” I rolled my eyes at his words and shoved him off me, scuttling over to my bag. _Of course_ he’d come to my room with this intention and _not_ be equipped. I heard Harry let out a groan once the desired item was in my grasp; with a puzzled look I tossed it at him and placed my hands on my hips.

“What?”

Instead of receiving an answer, he ripped my hands from my hips and threw me onto the bed. If I’m being perfectly honest here, his newfound dominance was a _major_ turn-on for me. But, instead of letting him see that, I narrowed my eyes and curtly said, “What are you doing?”

I looked up at Harry straddling my body and couldn't help but smirk as he rolled his eyes and cocked his head to the side. “Did you really think you could bend over in front of me and get away with it, Lennon?” he hoarsely whispered. I rolled my eyes and gave no other response, which I suppose he took as a cue to get to gettin’. Within the blink of an eye his constricting boxer briefs were removed and he was set to go. And without any warning, his massive buddy was thrust inside of me.

But, like the little fuckwit he is, he made no signs of moving. I’m not one to beg, so, in retaliation, I rolled my hips into his. However, it seemed as if Harry was having none of that and held my hips down, “Use your words, Lennon.”

“Listen, if you’re not goin’ to do a thing I’m just gonna give myself a go. So you can just gather your things and leave,” I suggested as my hands balled into fists- wanting to help myself out.

“Don’t be a tease,” Harry whined.

“Then get a move on, Curls. I haven’t got all day!”

After a quick scowl, he did as he was told; roughly rocking his hips into mine, reaching deeper with each movement. My hands fisted the messy sheets beneath me as my back arched for my hips to meet his. “Fuck,” escaped Harry’s mouth in a moan, “Oh, fuck!”

“Harder, Harry,” I whispered, right hand gripping his bicep, “Get rough with me.” As he followed my wishes, the familiar intense sensation began to build within me; my toes curling, my moans louder, my eyes screwed shut in pleasure.

“Open your eyes, babe,” Harry encouraged. Slowly I gave into the one thing he had asked for; my ice blue eyes meeting his dark green. His face scrunched up in satisfaction as his lips parted for a moan to escape. “Say my name,” he pleaded as I felt myself coming to my brink. “Say it,” he repeated as his thrusts became slower, his right hand furiously rubbing at my tender areas.

“Harry,” I choked out.

And that, my friends, is how I learned to get Harry Styles over the edge. The second his name left my lips, a final moan left his; essentially leaving him breathless. “Almost there,” I whimpered as he slowed, “Faster.”

As Harry gave into my needs, I felt myself let go as well; panting and thoroughly sexed.

# +

After a few minutes of collecting ourselves, Harry rolled from on top of me to my side; his eyes boring deep into mine. “God, took long enough for you to give in,” he teased with a chuckle.

With a glower I gave his arm a wimpy punch. “So, am I officially on your résumé?”

“Nah,” he shook his head. “That’s only for the birds I’m done with.”

My eyebrows skyrocketed at this news. “What do ya mean? You’ve gotten what you wanted,” I reasoned.

“You can’t tell me that after _that_ , you won’t be thinking about doing it again,” he spoke haughtily.

I didn’t even know how to respond to his words, so I didn’t. Instead, I said, “Don’t you think those shitheads are gonna be wonderin' where ya are?”

He nodded his head, “I suppose so.” I firmly pressed my lips together, furrowing my brows at him before I got out of bed to get dressed. It was a bit odd as we dressed- silent and careful; he gave me cheeky smiles and I scowled at him, not really something that should happen after a good ole shag.

I stood near the door expectantly, waiting for his impudent comments and for him to leave. He sauntered over with a self-satisfied grin on his face. I took a deep breath, stood on my toes, and ran my hand through his curls, “Don’t want it to look like you’ve had a tumble in the sheets when you get back there, now do we?” Harry laughed and allowed me to run my hands through his hair until I deemed it ‘not sex hair’, and before he turned to the door I said, “ _No one_ knows about this, clear?”

“Crystal,” he arrogantly spoke. And as his left hand rested on the handle, his other reached out for my arm, tugging me closer and pulling me in for a heated kiss. Harry’s lips detached themselves from mine slowly, lingering, and he gave me a smirk that seemed to say ‘don’t forget this’.

And with that, he was out the door. Leaving me pressed against the adjacent wall frazzled, confused, and vexed.

What the hell is that boy doing to me?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoomp there it is.
> 
> Thoughts?


	22. Lucky Stars

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Recommended Listening: The Wombats - Jump Into The Fog

There are always those days that come and go when you feel completely dazed. You know, when something happens and you just feel out of it for a while after. Like you’re physically there, walking around and doing what you need to do to get through the day, but you’re mentally checked out.

Well, that’s how it’s been for me today. Every once and awhile, when I remember that I am _actually_ here, it feels like my whole mind is fogged with thoughts and memories and questions. But, when I am in that dazed state, it’s like I don’t have any problems or thoughts. I’m just _there_.

From the moment I woke up my mind was clouded. And while in the shower (where I get all of my best thinking done), I just decided that I’d let myself forget for a bit. It’s not like I’ve got these crazy burdensome life problems, per se, more like... I’m confused. I’m just confused about so many things right now.

So, in an attempt to distract myself, I slipped out of the hotel without notice and began a trek to the nearest strip. I had a nagging feeling that I’d receive a call from one of the six nettlesome men (if you can even call them that, aside from Paul) in my life, but went with my original idea to find a dispensary.

Luckily for me, it was only about a twenty minute walk. The owner, who was a fit guy in his twenties named Joey, was an absolute joy to be around, and I found myself a bit disheartened when the transaction was complete and I didn’t have a reason to hang around anymore. So, I once again found myself making the footslog back to where I was to be undoubtably met with _someone_ who had realized I was gone.

Much to my surprise, when I had entered the hotel lobby, the employee at the desk had stopped me and told me that my ‘party’ had left and had arranged for a car to pick me up. I thanked the woman and quickly went up to my room to grab a few... _necessities_. Which, at least when it comes to me, are a flask and bowl. As I’ve said numerous times before; it’s nearly impossible to get through things like this sober. Following a few shots, a fill of my flask, a good ole smoke down, and a brush of my teeth, I endured a lengthy ride to the massive venue that held all six of my captors.

Or, well, what I like to _think_ of as my captors.

No.

They are my captors.

They’d probably even agree to the title.

I rest my case.

When I had finally gotten past the throng of screaming, hormonal, hateful ‘fans’, I trudged into the back halls looking for someone I recognized. As I shuffled around a few stage men I saw Paul’s burly body standing outside an open door frame. “Hey, Paul,” I quietly spoke with a small smile as I neared him.

“Ah, Lenny, ya made it!” he grinned.

“Well, of course I did. I couldn’t quite just stay there and not have to deal with the repercussions, now could I?” I tried to tease, but Paul knew how correct that statement was. “Why had you lot left me with a car, anyhow?”

“We’d stopped by your room before we left, but ya didn’t answer. Thought you were sleepin’, so we jus’ decided to leave ya be. Well, I knew you weren’t sleepin’, but let the lads think ya were,” he spoke knowingly. As his hand smoothed over his hair he asked, “So what have ya got with ya?”

“Why?” I teased, “Want some?”

Paul let out a chuckle. “You know how much I wish I could be a carefree teenager, such as yourself. But I’m a grown man. I’ve got a family and a job. I was just curious,” he spoke lightly, a small smile on his rugged face.

I scrunched my face up, “Let’s hope I never get old, then.”

“Hope ya die before ya get old?” Paul asked with a sly smirk on his face.

“Talkin’ ‘bout my generation!” I hollered; the sound of my voice echoing throughout the hall.

“That a girl!” he boomed proudly.

I took a sarcastic curtsy, and gave Paul my best smile. “You know I much prefer the good stuff,” I told him. “Plus, only the good die young.”

“You got that right,” he agreed.

With one last smile he clapped me on the back and then thrusted his thumb over his shoulder. I peered around his large frame and through the crack of the door saw FF. I nodded my head in understanding. “See ya later, then?”

“You got it.”

I took a deep breath and braced myself for the awkward that was about to be thrust upon me. You know, the fact that Niall has basically disowned me and that I’d told the rest of the lot that I wanted to get into Simon’s pants. Not to mention the whole... _Harry situation_.

So, for a little encouragement, I took a few steps back and gulped down a bit of my favourite whiskey. I contemplated just looking for a spare room, but shook the thought from my head, telling myself to ‘not be a little bitch and boss up’.

I shook out my frustrations and sauntered into the small room that held the five idiots; each of them looking up as they heard my footsteps. “Ah, nice of you to join us, Lennon,” Liam spoke with a smile on his face.

I shrugged my shoulders as I plopped down on the couch, “S’not like I had a choice.”

Niall looked at me from the chair beside the couch with his eyes narrowed. “You smell like whiskey.”

“And you smell like Ronan,” I bit back without missing a beat.

“I’m sorry, who?” he asked with furrowed brows.

My stomach dropped as I felt the anger rise up in me. I licked my lips in frustration, not being able to decipher whether or not he was serious. “Are ya fuckin’ kiddin’ me?”

“No?” Niall spoke uncertainly. “Should I know who he is?”

I scoffed, “Ya should! This only proves how much you’ve changed.”

“Care to clear it up then?” he asked indignantly.

I was at a complete loss as this conversation progressed, my anger bubbling up inside of me, and the rest of the people in the room being forgotten. “He’s only my favourite person in all of Mullingar!” I condescendingly told him. “Well, aside from Rosie. But they might be tied for first. After all, he does know everything about me, which is a lot more than anyone else. Well, technically he doesn’t know _everything_ -”

Suddenly a hand slapped over my mouth. “You were rambling, love,” Louis whispered to me from my left.

“Thanks?” I said, muffled from Louis' hand.

“What doesn’t he know then? Hmm?” Niall asked impatiently.

I rolled my eyes and pushed Louis' hand off of my mouth. “Well, he doesn’t know that I’m here, that’s for damn sure. And the _only_ reason he doesn’t is because I was practically thrown here without any warning!” I snapped. “I can’t believe you don’t remember _Ronan_! Of all people! Shame on you,” I spoke with disgust.

“Bloody hell!” he yelled, “Just tell me who the fuck he is!”

With an incredulous laugh and a shake of my head, I said, “The man down at the tracks. That we spent every weekend with. The man that fucking explained how the goddamn world worked to us. The man that has been by my side everyday when you weren’t.”

A look of recognition flashed across Niall’s face. “Fuck! Ya still see him? How’s he been?”

I couldn’t help but grimace at his complete flip of attitude. “Like I’d fuckin’ know from California.” Without another word, Niall got up and left; producing a sigh of relief from me as I slumped further into the couch. As an awkward silence fell over us I scanned the room; my eyes meeting four sets already trained on me.

“So,” Zayn drawled in an attempt to break the silence. “You’ve been drinking, then? What for?”

I shrugged, “Why not?”

“Because it’s not going to solve any of your problems and it’s four o’clock,” he returned casually.

I laughed, “Alcohol may not solve your problems, but neither will water or milk. Or, if you want to get all deep and philosophical, beer is proof that God loves us and wants us to be happy.”

“Ben Franklin,” Harry mused.

“Ye- How’d you know that?” I asked as my brows furrowed.

He shrugged, “I like history.”

“Me too,” I slowly and quietly returned, almost in awe that we had something in common.

“Well I don’t,” Louis moaned. “I’m getting a drink. Liam? Zayn?”

Liam nodded his head while Zayn said, “Might as well. Find Niall while we’re at it, too.”

Well, fuck.

Fucking fuck fuckity fuckers fuck.

Today is just not my day apparently.

I could see Harry smirking from the corner of my eye as he smugly leant against the far wall. I felt... I don’t even know what I felt. Which _doesn’t_ happen to me. EVER. I always know what I’m thinking; so my loss for everything right now was really pissing me off. “Uh, funny that we agree on something, eh?” I asked, trying to get past the silence.

He cocked his head to the side, “I bet we have a lot in common. Nice shirt by the way.” I glanced down at my cutoff top and back to Harry, my eyes narrowed. “Wear it for me?” he asked with a cocky smile.

I scoffed, “No.”

“I think you’re wrong.”

“And _I_ think that if I agreed with you we’d both be wrong,” I sneered.

“But you had just said that you did agree with me about one thing,” he slowly spoke as he pushed himself off the wall and sauntered over to me.

As his weight fell into the sofa I neared the arm rest; attempting to put some distance between us, but Harry followed my actions and slung his arm around me. “Yeah, that was _one_ thing. Don’t read too much into it,” I warned him.

“But you’ve got that one thing!” Harry slightly sang, crooked smile on full display. I scoffed and gave him a shove. “What’s got your knickers in a twist, hmm?” he asked; his minty breath fanning over me.

With a roll of my eyes and my hand pressing onto his shoulder firmly, I said, “Just some fuckwits that I’d rather not be surrounded by at all hours of the day. And one of them keeps singing these horrendous songs every time we’re alone.”

Harry’s grip around my shoulders only tightened, “C’mon, love. Let’s figure out what we agree on. Tell me everything about you. You can go on for hours, I don’t mind.” My brows furrowed together at his words; why had he completely disregarded my dig at his silly little ‘band’? Why the fuck was he being so persistent on finding out what we had in common? “Love,” Harry lilted.

I gave him my award winning eye roll again. “Uhm, the idea that people had sex before the 20th century really freaks me out,” I admitted. Harry’s eyebrows raised in amusement, but a puzzled look crossed his features. “Like, George Washington probably got a blow job and that makes me uncomfortable.”

He let out a bark of laughter, “I suppose that makes sense, so I can’t really argue with that.” As I tucked a chunk of hair behind my ear, he asked, “What else, then?”

“I can't remember the day I woke up and wasn't a kid anymore. I can't remember the day when everything stopped being great and started being real. Ya know?” I spoke. He nodded his head, waiting for me to continue. “Er, well, this isn’t much of a statement. More of a question, but wasn’t it beautiful when you believed in everything?”

Harry gave me a crooked smile before looking at his hands, “Yeah. I never thought of it that way, but- yeah. Completely.” I returned his smile, feeling somewhat content with what we had in common. “See, I told you we were more alike than you thought,” he teased with a gentle shove to my shoulder.

“Eh,” I curtly replied. “It was only two things.”

“But it’s a start!”

“I guess you could call it that,” I spoke with uncertainty.

He leaned back into the sofa, grinning. “You have an answer for everything, don’t you?”

“Of course not,” I replied, looking at him like he was off his rocker. “I only pretend.” I pointed up to my brain as I struggled to find the right words. “It’s extraordinarily... _chaotic_ up here.”

He chuckled while he sat up to lean in closer to me. “Good.”

“Good?” I parroted.

“Yeah,” he nodded, lowering his chin to get a better look at me. “I like a girl who’s a bit fucked for answers every so often.” I opened my mouth slightly to reply, but before I could get any sounds out, his lips were on mine and my brain was doing somersaults. His lips were smooth and plump; feeling exceptionally wonderful against my own. We had moved onto a full on snog and I felt his hand grab my thigh, urging me onto his lap.

I quickly broke away, a bit out of breath, “Don’t you have a show to go get ready for?”

Harry’s eyebrows knit together. “What was- I thought that- You know what, never mind.” He quickly untangled himself from my limbs and made his way to the door, pausing only when he heard my voice.

“This stays in between us,” I hastily spoke, his head slightly turning to face me. “I mean, you never really know, but when they know, you’ll know. You know?”

“Did you just quote _Finding Nemo_?” he asked bewilderedly.

I nodded, “Yeah, what’re ya gonna do about it?”

With a smirk he said, “Nothing,” and was out the door.

# +

I was sitting on the cold pavement outside the venue doors as the sun began to set; the reverberations of some FF tune hitting the wall I had posted myself up against. I inhaled a bit of spliff and silently shook my head to myself; completely baffled by how the past two days had played out. Taking another hit, my mobile began to ring in my pocket.

Once retrieved, I checked the I.D., nearly choking on my own saliva at the name. It continued to ring as I debated whether or not to answer; though, I ultimately decided to. “Hello?”

“Lennon, darlin’!” her voice cheerfully sounded through the speaker. I scoffed and rolled my eyes. 

“Hey, mum,” I dryly returned. This had been the first time she contacted me since I left home- well, aside from when her and dad came to see me and Niall in London. “Isn’t it late over there?”

“Oh, yes, very,” she replied in the same chipper voice. Count on her to sound cheery no matter what. “But I knew that Niall had a show tonight and I wanted to check in on you,” she said, quickly tacking on the last bit. Thanks, mum, I appreciate the concern. “Where are ya?”

“California.”

“Must be lovely there!”

I groaned, “I s’ppose. Did ya need something, or...?”

“Right, right!” she agreed. “How have you been, love? Niall’s taking care of you I trust?”

“Oh, yeah,” I sarcastically concurred. “We’re closer than ever.”

“Wonderful!” she exclaimed, completely lost on my sarcasm. “Keepin’ clean, then?”

“Mhm,” I hummed in response, holding in a drag. “Niall’s made sure of that.” Though, in all honesty, he _hasn’t_. If anything, I think my ‘problem’ has gotten worse with these fools. _Especially_ when I’m around Niall. I mean, I’d probably be more inclined to get it together if he could actually be nice to me for once. But he can’t, so this whole ‘fiasco’ of mine has increased essentially in spite of him.

“Tha’s spectacular, dear! I really am glad to hear that!”

My lips quirked into a small, lopsided smile, but dropped once I remembered that I was lying to her. “How’s dad been?” I asked, wondering if he had even thought about me these past few months. Mum clearly has, at least once, since she called me. But dad- haven’t heard from him once. Not that I expected to or anything. I just- I kind of hoped that he hadn’t completely given up on me.

“Good, he’s been good. Lennon,” she began, “He really is proud of you- for gettin’ it together and all. I know he might not show it, but it’s there.”

“Sure,” I mumbled, not believing what she said at all.

“Ya know, I’ve seen Rosie a few times. She said she missed you and was wonderin’ when we were gonna let ya come back,” mum stated. “Have you been keepin’ in contact with her? She really is such a lovely girl- despite the fact that she’s into the same things as you. You should be talkin’ to her, love”

“Yes, mum. I have,” I spoke indignantly. “S’just hard when she’s in a completely different time zone, country, _and_ continent.”

“A’right, a’right!” mum playfully snapped. “I’ve got to get to bed, though. Quite late over here. Love you, Len.”

“Love you, too, mum,” I sighed, lightly closing my eyes as the line went dead. This conversation was just the icing on the infamous, metaphorical cake. Everything that was said had my mind spinning and me second guessing way too many things at once.

# +

I sat in the van silently with Niall and Zayn on either side of me, Larry in the back, and Liam up front with Paul. Much to my displeasure, when I had pleaded with each of the boys to switch seats, they gave me a knowing look that seemed to say, ‘fix it’. Although I had no intentions of doing so, Zayn’s persistent pushing (literally) of me towards Niall, had sparked my brother’s attention. As Zayn pushed me once again, I gave him a small smile- to which Niall reluctantly mirrored. I awkwardly scratched my arm, racking my brain for something- _anything_ \- to say. “Uh, how was the show?” I asked Niall quietly.

“Fine,” he curtly answered. Liam turned around in his seat to send Niall a menacing glare, causing Niall to continue on. “Er, what did you do?” My lips slowly parted, trying to decide if I should spout off some bullshit or not. “And be honest,” he warned.

I gave him a sheepish smile, “Had some spliff outside-”

“ _Lennon_ ,” he sternly whined. “Are ya serious?”

I nodded, “You told me to be honest.” A silent moment passed as his eyes fell towards his lap. “But,” I attempted to sound cheery, “I spoke to mum.”

“Did ya really now?” he asked as a look of disbelief crossed his face.

“Yeah, it was... nice,” I spoke, _partially_ telling the truth. I mean, it was just niceish. Things aren’t all hunky dory now that she’s given me a ring.

“I can’t tell if that’s genuine or if you’re bein’ ironic,” Niall spoke as his eyes squinted at me; as if he’d be able to see straight into my soul.

“I’m never ironic,” I gasped as my hand flew up to my heart.

“What about your ‘I hate Tuesdays’ shirt?” Louis asked as his head poked in between the space by mine and Niall’s heads, gesturing to the shirt I was wearing.

“I do hate Tuesdays,” I spoke truthfully. “It’s the start of the work week. Plus, my brother died on a Tuesday.”

“WHAT?!” he yelled into my ear, causing me to cringe. “YOU HAVE _ANOTHER_ SIBLING WE DON’T KNOW ABOUT?!”

“He died in the womb. I was looking right at him. That’s my first memory,” I quietly spoke. “But this- this is one of the better Tuesdays of my life,” I admitted as my hand clutched my flask in my bag before pulling it out. “I wish he was here to see it. Here’s to you, Casey Horan,” I said with a lift of my flask prior to sipping from it.

“Wait,” Harry spoke from the back. “Did you have a triplet or is Lennon just having a laugh?”

“She’s just havin’ a laugh, mate,” Niall answered as a smile spread across his lips, his eyes remaining trained out the front window.

# +

It was late when we had finally got back to the hotel and everyone was absolutely knackered, so we parted ways and went to our respective rooms. As soon as I was changed into a jumper, I collapsed onto my bed; thoroughly spent and ready to live out my motto: Nod off and let the world sod off.

Unfortunately for me, when I was extremely close to the promising dreamland, there was a quiet knock on my door. I tiredly moaned in frustration and threw the crisp sheets off of my body; moving at the pace of an elderly man to the door. As my feeble arms undid the chain and opened the door, my eyes squeezed shut and a yawn shook my body. As I reopened my eyes, I gave my guest a small smile, “Hey. What’re ya doin’ here?”

“Look, I know it’s late, but I think that we need to talk before we head for the airport tomorrow.”

“ _You_ think that, or Liam thinks that and sent you over here?” I playfully asked, though I knew it most likely the latter.

“Well, he had suggested it, but I was thinkin’ of doin’ it anyway.”

I nodded my head and opened the door wider, stepping to the side to let him in. As soon as my body was against the bed again, I could feel sleep taking over me. “What’s up?” I tiredly mumbled. Niall sat beside me and covered us up with the sheets as he sighed; clearly not wanting to have this conversation.

“I just- I wanted to apologize. For- for everythin’, ya know? All that stuff from back in Seattle was uncalled for,” he admitted sheepishly.

“S’alright,” I yawned. “It happens.”

“No,” he said as he furiously shook his head, “It’s not alright. It was mean, and rude, and thoughtless, and everything that coincides with those words.”

I gave him a small smile, “Really, Ni, let’s jus’ forget about it.”

“No,” he defiantly spoke. “Not until I know how you felt about it.”

“Niall,” I slowly spoke.

“Please, Lennon?” he asked with a pout. “It’ll really make me feel better.”

“Don’t give me that look!” I yelped, covering my eyes with my right hand and pointing at him with the other. “That’s not fair! You do that eye thing that makes you look like one of those homeless puppies and it makes me want to give you a hug and feed you cake!” I grumbled. The amount of things he’d gotten away with when we were kids with that face... Twat.

He chuckled at me, “C’mon. For yer big brother?”

“Truthfully?” I quietly spoke.

“Truthfully,” Niall echoed.

“You have no idea how worthless you made me feel,” I admitted in a whisper. I could feel an uncommon twinge in my eyes as my throat began to constrict, but I’m just gonna blame it on my fatigue.

“Lennon...” he guiltily spoke as his eyes fell.

“S’alright.”

“Stop saying that! It _is not_ alright!” he chastised me.

“Should I keep goin’?” I carefully asked, not sure if it would push him further. He slowly nodded his head as his eyes fought to stay on me. I straightened my back and sighed, “Things are different now. We’re drifting apart, and I really don’t know how to fix it. You’re starting to become closer to other people, and I’m just here watching the world go by without me. I don’t know what to do, it hurts. I hope this is just a phase and we will get over it, because if not- I don’t know what I’ll do.”

I paused briefly to take a deep breath and blink away the unwelcome tears that brimmed my eyes. “I buried how much I missed you; buried it to the very bottom of my heart. But it’s still there, digging the way back to the surface, suffocating my every breath. I miss you and you don’t miss me,” I confessed. “I’d be lying if I told you losing you was something I could handle.”

“I’m not goin’ anywhere, I promise,” Niall spoke as he grabbed my hand to give it a squeeze. “Each day I thank my lucky stars for you.”

I let out a laugh- nothing was funny, but I just didn’t know what else to do. “All the little things that annoyed me so much about you were the things I missed the most when you left,” I whispered. “And to be honest, I don’t know where I’ve been for these past few years; months _especially_. I can’t believe I got this low.”

Niall cleared his throat as his grip on my hand tightened, “I love you- I really do. But I don’t know what to do.” He turned his head to face me as he spoke again, “I may not know much, but I _do_ know that you’re more than enough. You are more than the mistakes you’ve made. Besides, mistakes are proof that you _are_ trying. Maybe you don’t see that. Maybe you don’t see people lookin’ at you because you aren’t lookin’ at them. Maybe you don’t hear all the good things people say about you because you’re too focused on the bad. Maybe you’re a lot more wonderful, beautiful, and special than you ever give yourself credit for.”

I sighed, “Who knows at this point.”

“I do,” he arrogantly said. “Please remember that even if I’m not there, I’ll always love you. Forever and always. A’right, Len?”

“Got it,” I nodded. “But if we’re being honest here... I really wanted to tell you something earlier- back before the show.”

His brows furrowed together, “And that was?”

“S’terrible, really.”

“C’mon. You’ve got tah tell me now.”

I sighed with a shake of my head and a playful smirk, “I was gonna say that I hope your kids have bad influences and develop a bad personality.”

Niall let out a guffaw, “Christ, Lennon! You’re my favorite person, but you can be a real cunt.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” I dismissively waved my hand and laid flat on my back. “Remember when we were kids and had those silly little glow in the dark space stickers on our bedroom ceiling?”

“Yeah,” Niall spoke reminiscently. “And we’d try to stay up as late as possible and make pictures out of the patterns?”

“Right!” I enthusiastically agreed. “Then mum would come in and scold us for bein’ up so late-”

“But we’d beg her to let us stay up for five more minutes-”

“And when she finally gave in, she’d sing us that old lullaby. Now that I think about it,” I mused, “That was probably just a ploy. That song always got me right tah sleep.”

Niall laughed as his head turned to face me, “I think that’s when ya started needin’ music to fall asleep.”

“Damn her,” I muttered. “She’s totally ruined my chances of having a normal life.”

“What? You were never normal, Len.”

“Well, sleep life, I guess,” I shrugged.

Without warning or a care in the world, Niall began to sing that old lullaby that I hadn’t heard in years,

“ _When you're so lonely lying in bed  
Night's closed it's eyes but you can't rest your head  
Everyone's sleeping all through the house  
You wish you could dream but forgot to somehow  
Sing this lullaby to yourself  
Sing this lullaby to yourself_”

I smiled fondly at all the memories this song brought back, Niall’s impeccable talent, the fact that Niall and I were (at least for the moment) on good terms. Softly, I began to join in,

“ _And if you are waiting, waiting for me  
Know I'll be home soon darling I guarantee  
I'll be home Sunday just in one week  
Dry up your tears if you start to weep  
And sing this lullaby to yourself  
Sing this lullaby to yourself_”

As the next verse arrived, I slowly began to fade out; my voice faltering as I realized how similar mine and Niall’s situation was to the words. I couldn’t help but wonder if our mum knew that one day this song would _actually_ mean something and make sense to us.

“ _Lullaby, I'm not nearby  
Sing this lullaby to yourself  
Don't you cry, no don't you cry  
Sing this lullaby to yourself_”

“ _Cause when I arrive dear it won't be that long  
No it won't seem like anytime that I've been gone  
It ain't the first time it won't be the last  
Won't you remember these words to help the time pass?_”

I could feel my eyelids growing heavier and heavier as the song came to a close. Niall’s singing was almost inaudible, but it was there; reminding me, comforting me.

“ _So when you're so lonely lying in bed  
Night's closed it's eyes but you can't rest your head  
Everyone's sleeping all through the house  
You wish you could dream but forgot to somehow  
Sing this lullaby to yourself  
Sing this lullaby to yourself  
Sing this lullaby, sing this lullaby  
Sing this lullaby to yourself_”


End file.
